


Love You Like Crazy

by Melodious329



Category: Angel: the Series RPF, Kane (Band), Leverage RPF, Supernatural RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M, Mpreg
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-20
Updated: 2012-02-20
Packaged: 2017-10-31 11:25:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 23,918
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/343534
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Melodious329/pseuds/Melodious329
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Newly married Christian desperately wants to get pregnant, and his husband, Steve is incredibly excited when it happens. But Christian doesn't tell Steve that he has a medical condition that makes it dangerous for him to carry a pregnancy to term.  If he follows all of the doctor’s orders can he keep his secret?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Love You Like Crazy

**Author's Note:**

> Male Pregnancy is normal in this universe

[](http://s567.photobucket.com/albums/ss114/Melodious329/?action=view&current=mpregbanner.jpg)

Christian pulls his jeep into the garage alongside Steve’s sedan, letting out a big sigh at a long day. It’s seeing Steve’s car there that makes it feel like he’s really home. 

Entering the house, he drops his bag by the door, exhausted. He isn’t surprised when he walks into the bedroom to see Steve just starting to get undressed. They have two crazy schedules, Steve’s a chef for an acclaimed catering company in LA and Christian has found success as a fought-over stunt coordinator. They’ve been together for the last three years, but they’ve only been married six months. 

Christian is suddenly very aware of the weight of the platinum band on his left ring finger as he steps further into the room. Watching Steve slip the white button down he wears for events off of broad shoulders, Christian takes the opportunity to plaster himself to his husband’s back. They’re both sweaty and tired and still half-dressed, but it doesn’t diminish the spark that immediately zips along Christian’s spine to be pressed against Steve. 

He feels Steve’s laugh rumbling against his tshirt clad chest, but Christian doesn’t move. He takes a deep breath but Steve’s scent is overlaid by the light smell of spices, of the fryer, so he presses his nose deeper into Steve’s neck, wanting to smell Steve. Slowly, Christian bends his head, downy hairs tickling his lips as he gently presses kiss after kiss to Steve’s bare shoulder, tan from the California sun and always warm. 

Steve stills in strong arms, leaning his head minutely to the side in encouragement. Christian brings his hands up Steve’s smooth chest, rough palms gently brushing over tight nipples and back down over Steve’s softer belly. He pops the button on Steve’s black pants before turning the blonde around. 

Christian has one hand cradling Steve’s cheek as their lips finally meet, both of them devouring one another with open mouths and eager tongues. Christian’s other hand scrabbles at the warm skin of Steve’s back for a moment, before he drops it down, shoving his hand between their bodies to finish getting Steve’s pants off. 

Steve’s teeth bite at Christian’s lower lip, worrying it before pulling back. “In a hurry?” he asks, teasing and already breathless.  
“Fuck yes,” Christian groans before dropping his head to Steve’s shoulder, pressing his face into Steve’s neck. 

Steve’s hand cradles the back of Christian’s head, holding him there, even as Steve’s other hand drops down to grasp a handful of Christian’s jean-clad asscheek. 

“Just in a hurry to get pregnant?” Steve whispers the question into Christian’s ear, his breath hot and the question teasing. 

Steve doesn’t wait for an answer before he’s pulling on Christian’s long hair, pulling Christian’s head back to access his lips again. And Christian smiles into the kiss. They had talked about kids before they married, but Christian is still amazed that he found an amazing guy who also wants kids as much as he does. They’re thirty-five and Christian feels he doesn’t have time to wait. 

He grabs Steve’s hips, his hands fitting perfectly there and he presses his thigh in between Steve’s legs, feeling Steve’s nuts through his jeans. But Steve is finally getting frustrated with following Christian’s lead and is trying to get his hands underneath Christian’s many layered shirts. Christian unbuttons the top of his flannel shirt and then pulls them all over his head.

With effort, Christian pushes Steve back, back onto the bed. Getting the hint, Steve drags himself to lie on the pillows, watching with hooded eyes as Christian finally drops his pants. But Christian doesn’t drag it out, only jacking his hard dick a few times as he climbs onto the bed, Steve’s thighs parting for him immediately. 

He tucks his hair behind his ears as he leans down, dropping soft kisses on Steve’s chest as he gets comfortable on his elbows. His tongue flicks out, dragging across Steve’s salty skin until it hits the nub of Steve’s tight nipple. He’s gentle but Steve’s breath hitches, a soft desperate sound. 

Dragging his tongue over the nub, Christian pulls it into his mouth, sucking only lightly before moving across to the other nipple. Then he’s sliding down, Steve’s knees coming up to surround him long before his mouth is anywhere near Steve’s cock. 

Gripping the base firmly has Steve letting out a long moan and then Christian’s tongue is firmly rubbing under the crown. Christian takes the fat head into his mouth, sucking even as he tries to keep up the ministrations of his tongue. Steve’s thighs squeeze around his shoulders for a moment and Christian can hear the harsh pants of Steve’s breathing. He knows just how Steve likes it. 

Steve gets restless as Christian presses down further, taking more of the length into his mouth. Christian doesn’t tease any more. Pulling off, he spits in his hand, jacking Steve casually even as Steve stares up at him with pupils blown wide. 

But spit won’t be quite enough so Christian reaches over Steve to grab the lube out of the bedside table. Going condomless is still new enough to Christian to have his fingers rough with excitement as he pushes one lubed finger into his hole. It’s a level of trust he’s never had with anyone else even after test results.

“Hey,” Steve murmurs, reaching for him, but it’s too late. 

Christian’s crawling over Steve’s body, grabbing onto Steve’s dick and positioning himself. He’s still tight and he goes slow, savoring the initial burn, drawing it out for both of them. 

He lowers himself all the way, until he can feel the wiry hair of Steve’s pubes on his sensitive ass. He feels full, stretched, and he rocks his hips forward to push Steve’s dick into his prostate. He loves it, loves just feeling Steve deep inside him, but it’s a tease for both of them. He knows how it drives Steve crazy. 

He rocks, forward and back, never releasing an inch of Steve’s dick, his hands pressing on Steve’s stomach to steady himself. He closes his eyes but he can feel Steve’s hand, wandering up his chest, trying to make him just as crazy. It heads for his nipple.  
Christian hisses in pain, batting Steve’s hand away though he tries not to stop his hips. His nipples are sore and the pain still radiates in his chest. 

Without losing a beat, Steve’s hand drop down, petting Christian’s lower belly. Steve tries to thrust up but Christian simply rides it out on his knees. It’s an old game and Christian huffs a laugh even as Steve thunks his head back on the pillow in frustration, his whole body rolling in another attempt. 

“Fuck, Kane, c’mon,” Steve whines. 

Christian’s grin is evil as he leans forward, his hands skimming up Steve’s smooth chest. The change in angle as him gasping even as Steve wraps his arms around him and squeezes him tight.

“Harder,” Christian says, finally letting Steve thrust up. “Fuck me, harder, right…right there.” 

It’s not unexpected when Steve rolls him over, pulling out. It’s what Christian’s been waiting for. 

“Turn over,” Steve orders, his desperate voice sending shivers up Christian’s spine even as he complies. “Legs together. I know you like it like this.”

Christian loves it when Steve takes over, takes charge, just gives it to him knowing what Christian likes. 

Pulling his legs further together, Christian gasps as Steve re-enters him, this angle fucking perfect and he’s tilting his hips back for more even as he feels Steve’s legs settling on the outside of his. Christian can feel every inch of Steve’s dick sliding into him like this, can feel the length of Steve’s body against him, around him, Steve’s heat and sweat. 

Christian practically has to lift up both of their weights to get one hand underneath his hips. He gets up a little on his knees, trying to jack his dick without letting Steve crush him into the mattress. Their rhythm is off but both of them are so close, just trying to cum. 

Christian comes first, moaning into the mattress as Steve thrusts faster making Christian’s whole body seize in pleasure. Even after his orgasm, just the feel of Steve’s dick inside, pressing still is short-circuiting his brain so that he whines in protest when Steve pulls out. 

Steve flops next to him but Christian basically just stays put, where Steve’s weight crushed him. This is different. It’s not that he can feel Steve cumming inside him, but now he can feel some of the cum leaking out, slicking his crease and his inner thighs even as his hole tries to close. 

His liquefied brain is still cataloguing the differences when he feels Steve’s thumb brushing against his abused hole like he’s trying to push the cum inside. And Christian’s so sensitive, he shivers bodily at the almost painful sensation. He loves that Steve doesn’t treat him too delicately.

Christian doesn’t move further and Steve’s hand disappears and then he’s being covered by the sheet. But he’s not surprised when Steve continues talking. 

“You know,” Steve says, leaning over to kiss Christian’s bare shoulder, “we should try different sex positions so that when we get pregnant we’ll remember exactly what we did that night.”

Christian grunts. While Christian is boneless after sex and sleepy, Steve comes up with the craziest pillow talk. “Right, you can tell the kid that story some day,” he murmurs sarcastically.

Steve giggles, but Christian is already dozing off, comforted b the feel of Steve’s heat and weight along his side.  
***

Christian wakes up to the feeling of his stomach trying to claw up his throat and immediately rolls over on his side. Mashing his face into the cool side of the pillow, he feels like if he just stays very still that he won’t puke. 

He starts, surprised when he feels a soft touch, Steve’s fingers gently tracing over his naked hip before the heat of another body is fitted against his back. 

“Hey,” Steve’s soft voice breaks the silence, breath almost uncomfortably hot against his ear. “You feelin’ sick again?”

Christian can’t even summon the energy to grunt. Breathing hard makes his stomach rebel. 

Steve doesn’t really need him to answer anyway. Christian can practically feel Steve’s frustration behind him. 

“You need to either take the pregnancy test or go to the doctor. Or take the test and then go to the doctor,” Steve firmly says. 

Christian still doesn’t answer. He knows that he should just take the fucking test. He’s been nauseous a few mornings, and a few times at work smelling the lunch that he hasn’t even told Steve about. And he’s been tired and his nipples are sensitive…but he’s afraid. 

“It’s ok if you’re not,” Steve murmurs, like he can read Christian’s mind and sees Christian’s every insecurity. “It’ll happen.”

Steve’s confidence is like a warm breeze over Christian, enveloping him. Steve rests his chin on Christian’s shoulder for a moment, looking down at Christian’s face smashed into the pillow. But when he still gets no response from Christian, he’s blowing out a big breath and moving away. 

“I’ll get you some crackers and ginger ale,” Steve says softly while pulling on a pair of pajama pants. 

Christian watches him leave out of the bottom of his vision. Despite that Steve will love him anyway, he’s still scared, scared that he wants a child so much that he’s imagining these symptoms. He’s scared of being disappointed and of disappointing Steve. 

Still feeling sick, he dozes until he feels Steve plant a light kiss on his forehead before leaving the room again. Frustrated, Christian finally sits up, taking a sip of ginger ale before deciding he’d rather brush his teeth. The EPT box is staring at him from beside the crackers though. Christian grabs his own clothes and then snatches the box up and continuing to the bathroom. He closes the door soundly behind him. 

He determinedly brushes his teeth first before giving in and opening the box. Not normally one to read the directions, he carefully unfolds the booklet, staring at the small print. He already feels like a dumbass. 

But there’s another reason that he’s scared to take the pregnancy test, a reason that even Steve’s ‘Kane-tuition’ can’t pick up. Steve doesn’t know that he has a heart condition. 

Christian told Steve that he moved around a lot when he was a kid so that it was difficult to make friends. But it was also difficult because he was sick a lot as a kid. And because they moved so much, it was a long time before the doctor realized that he had rheumatic fever, enough times that it had caused damage to his heart, permanent damage called mitral stenosis. 

Pregnancy will put an even greater strain on the heart, but his cardiologist has never said that he absolutely shouldn’t get pregnant. He’s been on antibiotics against other infections for almost twenty-five years now and his cardiac symptoms are still virtually nonexistent. But being thirty-five, Christian knows that there’s no more time to wait if he wants a family. 

Taking off the cap on the testing stick, he moves over to the toilet. There he wastes another minute trying to decide if he should hold his dick in his right hand or the test. Finally he starts to piss, the test in his right hand and his dick in his left. He holds the test there for what is probably more than five seconds to make sure, finishes his morning piss, and then practically drops the test trying to set it flat on the counter. 

Letting out a harsh breath, Christian stares at the piss soaked testing stick and thinks how he’s going to need to sanitize this whole bathroom. He knows the test isn’t supposed to be read for two minutes, but he can’t help staring at it as a bluish liquid creeps into the square window. A faint blue line appears almost instantly so he at least knows that the test is working. 

He waits anxiously as the bluish liquid creeps into the second round window. There’s a faint line, definitely some blue, but is it a plus or a minus…

It’s a plus. Christian’s hand moves to cover his mouth which has opened in shock. It’s a plus. 

“I’m pregnant,” he says aloud, trying the words out as he opens the bathroom door. 

He opens the door to see Steve directly on the other side, Steve who heard him. 

They both stare at each other with wide shocked expressions, but then Steve’s pink lips crack into a smile. Like the breaking of a dam, suddenly they’re both smiling, big and wide, Christian laughing, giddy from his earlier anxiety. And they’re hugging, crushing each other like they can’t get close enough, the hug the only outlet for the swell of energy and emotion within each of them. 

“Oh my God, baby,” Steve whispers long before Christian is calm enough to speak. 

Christian’s cheeks actually hurt by the time they break apart, but as soon as they’ve separated a millimeter, Steve is kissing him hard. It’s not a kiss they’ve ever shared before, it’s passionate and furious but not sexual, desperate but not demanding, and it lasts until Christian’s lungs are burning, screaming for air and still Christian would keep kissing if Steve didn’t move away then. 

It’s overwhelming, how amazing it feels, to get something he’s wanted for so long, to see the pure joy on Steve’s face. His hands reach out to cup Steve’s face reverently, but Steve’s grabbing his hands, kissing his knuckles and then his palms, his blue eyes shining, happy crinkles at the corners. 

“We should call my parents,” Steve says, his voice higher with excitement. 

Reality seems to pop the bubble of Christian’s happiness just like that. “Don’t you think we should wait until after the doctor?”

His comment seems to deflate Steve down a little too, his smile lessening. “There’s time for worrying later. I just want them to share in every part of this, don’t you?”

Christian certainly doesn’t want to say anything against Steve’s parents, but he’s still not convinced. “Maybe I should take another test,” he hedges. 

This time Steve laughs at him. “If you take enough tests, eventually one will say negative. Now come on, let’s just call them. And then we can call your parents,” Steve says, already turning away to go into the living room. 

Christian quickly follows. “No. You know my parents are taking that cruise right now, they don’t have reception,” he says, hoping that he doesn’t sound guilty. The last thing he needs now is his momma pissed at him for this when they’re so happy. 

“Oh yeah,” Steve says flippantly, obviously more excited about telling his own parents. 

Steve pulls him down onto the couch where they huddle together, staring at Steve’s phone as it makes the call. The excitement starts to creep back into Christian’s veins at the thought of how happy Steve’s parents are going to be. They always liked him, but they’re still his in-laws. He thinks he’s more nervous around them now than before he and Steve got married.

“Hey, mom,” Steve says into the phone, shooting mischievous glance at Christian. “Christian’s on the phone too.”

“Hi, boys. What are the two of you up to today?” she asks. 

“Not a lot. We were wondering if sometime we could stop by and look at some of my old baby stuff. I know you kept all of it,” Steve teases. 

“I didn’t keep all of it,” Sandy counters, sounding amused. “Are you having a fit of nostalgia? Or are you having a second childhood?”

Christian snorts a laugh. Sandy can always be counted on to make fun of Steve. 

“Neither,” Steve says insistently. “There could be some useful stuff in there. You know, legos, board games, a crib…”

Steve trails off and then there’s a long pause on the other end of the line. Then Sandy asks in a very serious voice, “Are you pregnant, Christian?”

Clearing his throat nervously, Christian speaks up the way he was raised to speak to mothers. “Yes, ma’am, I just took the test today.”

Her voice booms out of the telephone in response. “Oh honey, that’s wonderful! Chris! Chris, come here!” she yells at Steve’s father. “Oh, you two must be so excited!”

Christian is smiling, staring at Steve’s happy face with stars in his eyes. “Yes, yes, we’re very excited.”

Everything else seems to pass by in a blur and all he’s left with is the sound of Steve’s laughter and the feel of Steve’s arms squeezing him tight.  
***

The news is still sinking in two weeks later. Christian has had his first appointment with an OB, purposefully scheduling the appointment when he knows that Steve has a meeting with a catering client that he can’t reschedule. Steve is still bitching about it, and Christian hates to disappoint him. But Christian just couldn’t tell his husband that he has a heart condition in the same breath that the pregnancy is confirmed. He’s just not sure how long he’ll be able to keep Steve from talking to his doctor, or his parents. 

His cardiologist was at the appointment as well, giving him a lecture. Technically Christian’s condition is classified as class II. He doesn’t have many symptoms even when he exercises and doesn’t need any kind of valve surgery or medications yet. But his cardiologist has never been in favor of taking any risks, whereas Christian has always felt like he’s making up for time spent sick.  
Christian has every intention of taking it easy. He would never do anything to jeopardize the pregnancy. 

The pregnancy…he’s still getting used to the idea. He’s also still getting used to waking up in the morning feeling like he hasn’t slept and already wanting to puke. 

He’s lying on his front facing the bathroom, he can feel Steve moving on his side, turning off the alarm and then putting his arm back across Christian’s waist. Christian doesn’t have to go into work today because they’re setting up for the next location and getting the non-action scenes out of the way today. 

Steve moves to lay his cheek against the bare skin of Christian’s shoulder blade. “How do you feel?” Steve’s voice is a low, concerned rumble. 

Christian grunts in answer, too tired to form the words that he’s felt worse and he’s felt better. He doesn’t understand why something the size of a pea or whatever is sapping his energy like this. He figured that the fatigue would come when he’s carrying around twenty-five extra pounds. 

Steve’s hand absently rubs his bare back for a moment. It’s not that Steve wasn’t affectionate before, but everything seems to have a different meaning now. 

Far too soon, Steve pulls away, crawling out of bed, but Christian knows it’s not for long. A few minutes later, Steve is back with crackers and Gatorade, ice cold because it helps the nausea more. 

Taking a deep breath and holding it, Christian slowly turns on his side, scooting his hips back so Steve can sit on the bed there. Gently, Steve brushes brunette strands of hair from Christian’s face so he can see. 

“It’s not like you have to get up already. But I did have a little surprise for you,” Steve says, smiling mischievously. 

Christian might be more excited by that look if he didn’t still feel like puking. But Steve just continues without Christian contributing anything to the conversation. 

“I have the day off too. Thought we could go down to the beach, make a day of it,” Steve explains, a smug little smile turning up his lips, like a puppy that knows he’s about to be praised. 

Christian can’t help smiling too and he reaches out to squeeze Steve’s boxer-clad thigh with his hand. “Sounds like a good idea. It just takes me a little longer to get going,” he says ruefully. 

“You never get going in the morning,” Steve teases him. 

“Pot meet kettle,” Christian grumbles as he reaches for a saltine. 

He shuts himself up with the salty cracker because they both know that Steve has been a lot better at not hitting the snooze button lately. And they both know the reason, know that Steve wants to be up to bring Christian crackers. It’s not like he desperately needs crackers to fight the nausea, but he knows Steve just wants to be involved. 

Steve doesn’t point out why he gets up, only smiles as his thumb rubs circles on Christian’s hip through the cotton sheet. He watches silently as Christian eats a couple of crackers and then attempts to sit up. 

“Do you want first shower?” Steve asks as Christian is taking a sip of the frigid Gatorade. 

“Yeah,” Christian says. Showers have always made him feel better when he’s sick. He figures he should be almost human afterward. 

“Ok, I’ll make some breakfast,” Steve says, already getting off the bed. 

Christian opens his mouth to protest. Making breakfast for one another was something they used to do for special occasions, but Steve has started making breakfast every day. He’s not five and even pregnant, he can just eat some cereal. 

But Steve is already out of the room and as cranky as Christian is, he doesn’t want to start the day off with a fight. But this is exactly why he doesn’t want to tell Steve or anyone about his heart condition. God knows how Steve would act if he knew. Steve probably wouldn’t have wanted children at all for one thing. 

With a huff, Christian pulls himself out of the bed and into the bathroom. 

He’s in a much better mood when he comes into the kitchen, hair dripping onto the collar of his tshirt and bar feet enjoying the cool linoleum after the hot water. He loves lazy days all the more when he doesn’t get many of them, and he likes getting up late and seeing the kitchen already full of sunshine and Steve’s music. Steve is moving along to the beat as he works, in his own world and Christian has already forgotten all about being upset as he sits at the kitchen bar. 

And he definitely forgets about it when Steve puts a plate of blueberry pancakes down in front of him, dusted with powdered sugar and fresh strawberries. Steve’s blueberry pancakes are phenomenal. He digs without even a word. 

“You’re welcome,” Steve laughs as he sits down beside Christian. 

Christian’s mouth is full as he looks sheepishly over at Steve, and Steve kisses his pursed mouth, tongue licking off the errant white sugar. 

Steve hops in the shower after breakfast and Christian grabs the giant bottle of giant prenatal vitamins. Grimacing, he chokes down the thing and sets about getting stuff together for a day at the beach. It’s still warm enough to get in the water so he digs out his swimsuit trunks. But as he’s changing his tshirt, he can’t resist stopping to take a long look in their full length mirror. 

His stomach is certainly still flat at this point, his torso cutting in to meet his thighs. But what will he look like when his belly is round, he wonders. He’s always thought pictures of pregnancy were beautiful, but it seems so strange to picture himself like that. It seems strange that there’s something inside him at all. 

He jumps in surprise when a hand touches his bare belly, Steve’s hand. “You’re going to look beautiful,” Steve whispers, kissing the shell of Christian’s ear. 

Christian smiles, leaning back into the curve of Steve’s body covered only in a towel, despite how he’s slightly embarrassed to be caught staring at himself. 

Sheepish, he moves away, pulling another tshirt on over his messy hair and looking around for his flip-flops. Leaving Steve in the bedroom to get dressed, he grabs one of Steve’s many cloth grocery bags and stuffs in a couple of beach towels and some bottles of water. They keep some of those spray-on sunscreen bottles outside on the porch and he sprays his arms and legs before putting a bottle in the bag as well. 

Grabbing a baseball cap, Christian pulls his wet but already curling hair into a pony tail before putting it on. He figures that they’ll just grab a sandwich for lunch at one of those little shops along the beach so he’s got everything they’ll need. 

“Ready?” he asks as Steve comes out of the bedroom. 

“You got some sunscreen?” Steve questions. “We should bring some more water, and maybe some apples.”

“Yes,” Christian says, his face drawing down into a frown as his eyebrows bunch together. “I’ve got everything.”

“Great,” Steve backtracks, grabbing out for Christian’s hand with a hesitant smile. “Let’s go, the chairs are in the car.”

Christian lets Steve pull him out to the car by the hand, happy just to have a day at the beach with his husband. He feels like they haven’t had a day to just themselves since their honeymoon. 

It’s more of a drive to get to their favorite spot, someplace a little less crowded and touristy than the closer beaches. But it’s worth the extra time as they easily find a near deserted place for their chairs near a public bathroom despite that it’s a beautiful day. 

Christian is still smiling as he takes his seat, his tshirt and hat still shielding most of his skin, but he still feels the warmth of the sun. He buries his toes in the sand, feeling as happy as a cat in a sunbeam. 

“Did you put sunscreen on?” Steve’s voice interrupts his rest. 

“Yes,” Christian grumbles, not even looking over at Steve as he doesn’t want to dignify that. 

“On your face?” Steve persists. 

“I’m wearing a hat,” Christian grumbles, trying not to get upset in the face of Steve’s earnestness. 

“Well, but still…” Steve continues. 

Rolling his eyes, Christian stands up, taking off his hat and reaching inside the bag for the sunscreen. He sprays it on his hands to wipe on his face and then goes ahead and tugs his tshirt off, giving his chest and back a quick spray. 

“I think I’ll take a swim,” Christian throws the bottle in his chair behind him as he walks toward the waves. 

“The waves look rough,” Steve calls out. And then, “You have to let the sunscreen dry!”

Christian tries to control his frustration and doesn’t stop, simply walks straight into the ocean, letting the waves lap around his ankles for a few minutes, his feet sinking further and further into the sucking sand. He knows that Steve means well, but he hates being babied. It reminds him of his mother, how she barely wanted to let him leave the house after his diagnosis, as if being told that his heart was damaged wasn’t enough. He wanted to live, not be constantly afraid.

He’s not surprised when he turns around to see Steve following him into the water. It spurs him to walk further in, pushing his legs through the crashing waves until the water is deep enough for him to swim underneath the next wave. 

When he surfaces Steve’s arms immediately surround him and he can’t help smiling despite himself. Wiping the salt water away from his eyes, Christian leans in for a wet kiss as Steve pulls him close, pulling him off his feet, the water and Steve carrying him. 

Steve’s smiling too, his eyes crinkling in the bright sunlight as Christian’s arm wrap around his neck. This is the kind of day Christian was looking forward to. Steve’s body feels warm and silky against his in the water. 

Christian gives Steve another kiss, tasting the salt on his own lips before pulling away, swimming a little further past the waves. Steve follows him, ducking underneath the waves. Christian watches him resurface, watches as Steve lifts those two strong arms to push his wet hair back from his face. 

He’s still staring, easy prey as Steve surges forward to catch him up again. Steve’s arms wrap around his waist as he leans his head back into the water, floating away from Steve until he’s pulled back again.

The cool water feels amazing after the heat of the sun, but after a time, they walk back out, the water trying to suck them back in. They don’t bother drying off, simply lay their towels over their chairs and let the sun dry them again. 

Christian’s practically asleep when Steve presses a cool bottle against his leg. He blinks sleepy eyes open. 

“Here, have some water,” Steve says, carefully casual in his phrasing. 

Snatching the bottle, Christian puts it in the cup holder of his fold-up chair. “I’ll drink it when I’m thirsty,” he says through clenched teeth. 

Of course, now that he’s awake, he is thirsty so it’s not long before the bottle is empty. 

“Have mine,” Steve offers, handing over the bottle. 

Christian can’t explain how he’s trying not to start screaming. He knows his emotions have been ricocheting about like a pro tennis match, but it might be suspicious getting so angry about a bottle of water. 

“Let’s just go get lunch,” he suggests instead. 

Dry enough, he stands up to put his shirt and hat back on, relieved when Steve does the same. They walk up the beach a ways in silence. Lunch is simple turkey sandwiches and more bottled water bought from a small seaside vendor. With both of them placated, then Christian steals both of their towels to take a nap on the sand, using Steve’s towel as a pillow. Steve just sits in his chair, looking cool with his sunglasses and bare chest, his foot rubbing against Christian’s calf every once in a while. 

His nap is interrupted by regular bathroom breaks and they go in the water a few more times, every time it gets too hot, until the air starts to get cooler and the sun begins to set. They go ahead and pack up their stuff then, stuffing it in the car. But instead of heading home, Steve grabs Christian’s hand, silently pulling him back towards the beach. 

The sunset is gorgeous, bright pinks and greens and orange colors over the blue sea and white frothy waves. They take off their sandals, carrying them in their free hands because they won’t let go of one another. Christian thinks he’s never been so happy to live in LA, where they can hold hands and walk on the beach. He’s even happy for the smog that apparently makes the best sunsets. 

It’s dark when Steve stops and pulls Christian close with his other arm, pressing a kiss first to the Christian’s temple and then to his lips. 

“I love you,” Steve whispers, and Christian feels like his heart is pressing against his rib cage, like his chest is too full and his skin too hot. 

It’s a long moment before Christian can even speak to whisper back, “Love you, too, darlin’.”

Steve is moving their still joined hands over Christian’s flat belly. “So happy,” Christian murmurs, not even knowing how to express all that he feels, just knowing that this is perhaps the happiest that he’s ever been. 

The light reflects on Steve’s white teeth as he smiles big and wide while Christian can’t help but bite his lip, almost afraid of his happiness. 

Steve pulls his hand again, heading back towards their car, the crash of the waves sounding somehow louder now that it’s dark. Before Christian knows it, his jaw is cracking with a huge yawn. 

He’s been really tired lately, though it’s always amazing how a day just sitting on the beach can tire him out. But Steve is once again concerned. 

“Are you tired? Wanna just go home?” Steve asks, squeezing Christian’s hand for emphasis. 

“I’m fine,” Christian grumbles before he realizes what Steve’s said. “What else were we gonna do?”

He can feel Steve’s shoulder roll down to their joined hands before Steve explains, “Just some dinner.”

From the way Steve is acting, Christian knows that it’s more important than Steve would have him believe. Steve must’ve been planning dinner, which means he planned the whole day. 

“Dinner sounds good,” Christian says simply. 

They actually stop half-way back to the car, at a nicer restaurant than Christian was expecting. 

“Are we dressed…?” he asks. 

“Don’t worry about it,” Steve replies smugly as he pulls Christian along to mount the steps. 

It’s obvious that Steve knows the staff here as they don’t even give their name. They’re simply shown to a partitioned area of the deck, right on the water. Now Christian understands why their casual clothing doesn’t matter. No other customers will see them anyway. 

The only light is from the moon and the candles on the table, the torch lights around them. But they’re not given a menu either, but something preplanned. It’s so sweet that Christian doesn’t know what to say. Thank you seems entirely too generic. 

“I know you can’t drink any wine, but I had them get something special for you,” Steve starts with a smile, but even as he’s finishing the sentence, he starts to frown, pulling out his phone. “Wait, doesn’t monkfish have mercury in it. Damn, I forget. I should ask Ryan where he gets it from…”

At this point, Christian starts to laugh, right in Steve’s concerned earnest face. He just can’t take it anymore. It’s ridiculous. 

“Christian…?” Steve starts. 

“Steve,” Christian interrupts firmly despite his laughter. “You have got to stop.”

Christian can see that Steve is about to protest, interrupt and say how important this all is, but Christian keeps going, his voice getting louder to make sure he has his husband’s attention. 

“I know that you’re worried, and so am I. I know that we have more things to worry about now, but you cannot constantly nag me and freak out. That’ll just make us both insane,” Christian tries to explain. 

Steve kinda deflates at the table, his back rounding as he slumps further down into his seat. “I just want everything to be perfect and…”

“It’s not going to be perfect,” Christian says smiling, lightening the mood some. 

Steve looks up and smiles too at those words, chuckling a little at himself. “I know. I don’t know where the happy medium is yet though, so you’ll have to bear with me,” he says, reaching his left hand across the table. 

Christian extends his right hand readily, “Well, I guess I am stuck with you now so I can do that.”

Steve laughs unexpectedly, tipping his chin back to expose his neck. 

They’re both startled by the sudden appearance of the waiter. Christian can’t help his Oklahoma roots when he makes an aborted attempt to pull his hand back. But Steve is nice enough not to mention it. 

The waiter is carrying what looks to be a wine bottle, actually a green champagne bottle with gold foil. It says ‘Ariel’. 

Presenting the bottle to Steve who accepts with a nod, the waiter sets about opening it. “We don’t normally carry non alcoholic wines, but this is supposed to be good,” he mentions.

Christian laughs again, squeezing Steve’s hand. He takes the glass with a simple thanks and waits until the waiter has left, leaving the bottle in a standing wine bucket. 

“To our family,” Steve says simply, raising his glass. 

Christian is leaking tears before he can even clink their glasses together and Steve is up out of his seat and at Christian’s side in a moment. 

“Fuckin’ hormones,” Christian mumbles into Steve’s shoulder.  
*****

Christian blinks his eyes rapidly and wipes a tired hand over his face as he sits in his chair on the set of the tv show he’s working on. This pregnancy thing is making him feel like he needs a nap every day like a four year old. 

He sits up a little more in his chair. He hasn’t actually told anyone at work about this pregnancy yet. And only his boss, Dean Devlin, knows about his heart condition just because of insurance reasons. It’s why he’s always had an assistant, Clayne Crawford.  
It was hard to make it as a stuntman and stunt coordinator with even a mild heart condition, but it’s a testament to how good he is. And Clayne’s pretty cool, and he takes working under Christian well. 

But he doesn’t want to tell his coworkers about his heart condition, even if they may have suspicions because of Clayne. And these coworkers have become more like friends, Tim the director and Beth the cinematographer and Gina the costume director. Hell, he even likes Aldis the young lighting director. He often goes out to dinner with them when Steve has a catering job, and now he has to stop himself from telling them about the pregnancy. 

He’ll tell them eventually, he’s just afraid of anything going wrong. He knows many pregnancies don’t make it past the first trimester even without his other health problems.

He’s startled by the sudden lack of movement on set, and looks over to see Tim standing up and removing his headphones. Then Tim meets his gaze and tips his head toward the catering tent, inviting him for a coffee break. 

It takes Christian a little longer to get up the energy to lift his ass from the chair and Beth is already chatting with Tim when he joins them. They both give him a questioning look, but neither of them says anything about his behavior. 

“Man, I need to get more sleep at night,” Christian tries to explain casually. 

He wishes that he could have caffeine right about now. He doesn’t often drink any and his excuse has always been that he doesn’t like the taste of coffee or Coke. But now he won’t risk having any caffeine with his heart and his pregnancy. 

“Yeah, maybe you should have some water,” Tim responds a little cryptically. 

Christian frowns thinking about all the water he’s forced himself to choke down lately. Fortunately, Aldis walks up at that moment.  
He’s a lot younger than the rest of them, but he’s like the little brother that Christian never had. And they all joke that everywhere Beth is Aldis will turn up. 

“Goin’ for a break?” Aldis asks, out of breath like he ran over here at the mere sight of Beth. 

“Yeah, hey, did you work on those moves I showed you?” Christian asks, teasing the kid a little in front of his crush. Christian had practically forced the kid to learn at least how to punch, not just work out to look good. 

“Oh, yeah, I, you know,” Aldis deflects, his arms flailing in a parody of the moves that Christian had taught him, but managing to flex his muscles to show off. 

“Teach me,” Beth says, perking up at the conversation. 

“Sure thing,” Christian says, trying to control his laughter because he can see the disappointment on Aldis’s face that Beth isn’t paying attention to him. 

“Oh,” they’re interrupted by a familiar exclamation as they walk into the catering tent. “There you are,” Gina, the costume designer says, looking at Tim and Christian. “I wanted to show a couple of things to you two. I just want to make sure that they’ll be able to move in the clothes for the next scene.”

“Yeah, just, coffee first,” Tim practically grunts, obviously not wanting to talk about work for a little while. 

Gina just makes an irritated noise and waves her hand at him before turning away to get her own cup of coffee. Christian is the only one not waiting for a turn at the coffee pot. He grabs a bottle of water, but then also grabs a bottle of orange juice hoping that a little sugar will help. 

He’s just turning towards his coworkers again when the smell hits him like a smack in the face, sickly sweet and nutty or something, and he’s bent over gagging before he can stop himself. 

He manages not to actually puke, though. Dropping both bottles to cover his mouth, he runs off still bent over a little, only needing to find a bathroom immediately. He shares half a trailer with Tim, but in his desperation, he accidentally runs into Tim’s half of the partition instead of his own. 

The nausea is taking its toll on him. His ribs hurt to throw up again, the muscles in his back straining so hard that they’re sore. It’s definitely contributing to the exhaustion that is apparently typical of the first trimester. 

He feels overheated afterward, and embarrassed. Even though it’s Tim’s bathroom, he can’t make himself get up right away, instead propping up his head on a forearm leaning on the toilet rim. He’s ready for this part of pregnancy to be over with al-fucking-ready. 

What he’s not expecting is for Tim to actually follow him, coming into the bathroom and looking down at him for a moment, before kneeling down on the floor himself. 

Moving immediately to sit up more, Christian searches his brain for something to say, but nothing comes to mind. He can’t decide if it makes him feel better that Tim looks as awkward as he feels. 

“Christian,” Tim starts, “…are you having some problems? You wouldn’t be the first, you know, to drink or…other…”

“No,” Christian interjects, surprised as shit at where this conversation is going. “I’m not doing drugs.”

Tim shifts uncomfortably, but his eyes are stern as their eyes meet. “You spend half the day in the bathroom, you're puking up most of your food, and there are bags under your eyes…yesterday, you almost tripped over your own chair, you were so uncoordinated,” Tim finishes with all the air of a caring but disappointed father. 

Christian drops his face, shaking his head. He can’t decide if he wants to laugh or cry. “I’m not on drugs,” he says, lifting his face so Tim can see the truth of his words in his eyes. “I’m pregnant.”

“Oh,” Tim says, obviously at a loss for what to say at the abrupt change in his assumptions. “Well, that’s…that’s great. Really?”

“Yes, really,” Christian says, the smile winning out and spreading over his face. “Steve and I have been trying for a while and…”

“That’s wonderful,” Tim says the words emphatically this time and then he’s leaning forward to give Christian an awkward hug since they’re both sitting on the floor of Tim’s cramped trailer bathroom. 

Christian laughs, almost a little hysterically, grateful for the fatherly feel of Tim’s arms when his own father can’t be here. He’s glad for at least one secret to be off of his chest. 

But as they separate, Christian can’t help teasing the older man. “Gina put you up to this, didn’t she?”

Tim’s face freezes but then he’s smiling and nodding. “Yeah, of course she didn’t want to just ask you herself, but nagged me until I did,” he grumbles. 

“I didn’t want to tell y’all yet,” Christian tries to explain. “It’s still early.”

Tim nods seriously in response. All of them have kids besides Christian and Aldis, and Tim undoubtedly knows how nerve-wracking it can be. 

“If you need anything…” Tim leaves the sentence hanging. 

For a second, Christian thinks Tim isn’t just talking about the pregnancy, he thinks Tim knows, but he doesn’t see pity on the director’s face, only happiness. It’s weird how much people want to help pregnant people all the time and Christian is still getting used to it. 

And yet, even without Tim finishing the sentence, the sentiment means a lot to Christian. They don’t even really know each other that well. They’re just coworkers, but he feels…loved. He can feel his face heating up when he thinks about it. 

“C’mon, guess we need to tell them the good news,” Tim says, getting his feet underneath before reaching out a helpful hand to Christian. 

Christian can’t help hesitating for a moment, looking at the offered hand. His first instinct is still to push it away, but pregnancy is a lot different than a heart condition. 

Finally Christian takes the hand, standing up and going to wash his mouth out in the sink, using some of Tim’s mouthwash on the counter while Tim waits. 

“Well, maybe we don’t tell them right away,” Christian suggests, smiling at Tim in the mirror. 

Christian walks back out to the catering tent with Tim, keeping his eyes down and wiping his mouth nervously with a hand. As he approaches the group of his coworkers, he flicks his eyes up to look at them briefly as if remorseful. 

There’s a pause, the air so thick between them that Christian feels he could almost cut through it. He’s debating how long to make them wait when Tim speaks. 

“Look,” Tim says solemnly. “This is going to be difficult for everyone. I already told Chris that we’re going to support him the entire way…the entire nine months.”

“You’re going to rehab for nine months?” Gina asks. 

“No,” Tim says, aggravated, and dropping the façade. 

“I can’t believe y’all think I’m on drugs,” Christian cuts in. 

“What?”

“Hey, naw, I didn’t even…”

“Chris, I’m sorry.”

It’s a cacophony of people talking in confusion until Tim says loudly, “He’s pregnant.”

Then it’s silent, and not just the five of them, the whole catering tent is now silent and listening. Christian starts to feel actually embarrassed again. 

And then the girls literally squeal, their voices suddenly turning so high-pitched that Christian can’t even make out words and then they’re trying to hug him, both at once, Aldis hanging back and looking a little uncomfortable. 

“How long?” Gina asks, pulling back but keeping her hands on Christian’s arms. “You and Steve haven’t been married that long.”

Beth is moving him towards a chair and he lets her move him passively, too overwhelmed by their response to resist. 

“Aldis, get him some ginger ale,” Beth says, and Aldis seems glad to do something useful. “The nausea’s been bad, huh?”

Christian doesn’t know which question to answer first. He opens his mouth but he just looks stupidly from one concerned woman’s face to the other. 

“Girls, give him a second,” Tim says, pulling up a chair and taking the plastic cup form Aldis to give to Christian. 

Gratefully, Christian takes a sip just to buy himself a minute to think. “Steve and I have been married six months and we’ve been trying the whole time,” he starts. 

Gina immediately opens her mouth but Tim silences her with a hand on her arm. 

“I’m only a few weeks which is why I hadn’t told y’all yet. I’ve had my first doctor’s appointment and so far so good, except the nausea and feeling tired. And some major heartburn,” Christian adds with a grimace. 

“I know this tea, no caffeine, it’s perfectly safe for the pregnancy,” Gina starts. “And it does wonders to calm your stomach. I’ve still got some at home. I can bring it tomorrow.”

“Thanks, I…” Christian doesn’t know what to say. He hates to refuse but even herbal remedies worry him. 

Beth must recognize his distress but misinterprets it. She reaches out one long-fingered hand to rest on his forearm. 

“You’re going to be a wonderful father, Christian. You’re so great with Pilot, and Milo,” Beth says. 

Christian just nods, not wanting to trust his voice then. 

“Are you drinking enough water?” Beth asks, ruining the moment. “I mean, you know what’ll happen if you don’t drink enough…”

“Has the doctor mentioned your job? What things you won’t be able to do?” Gina interrupts. 

Christian sighs. Why exactly is it that people feel compelled to give pregnant people advice all the time?  
*****

Christian grits his teeth as Steve holds the door of the bar open for him to walk through. He’s just past the first trimester and barely showing. He can open a frickin’ door himself. 

But he bites his tongue, something he’s been doing a lot of lately and walks quickly inside looking for the friends they’re meeting. 

It’s early on a Tuesday night, and the place is practically empty but they all have crazy schedules and professions. He spies them in a crowd at the bar and he’s walking towards them when he remembers to remove his hand from where it’s drifted to his belly. He still hasn’t even told them about the pregnancy. He was waiting until after the first trimester and now he just can’t think of a good way to say it. 

Christian heads straight over to David, his best and oldest friend in LA, vaguely aware that Steve is greeting Jensen and his wife, Danneel. 

“What’re you having? Just water?” David asks him briefly before turning to the bar, already sure of the answer. 

“Sure,” Christian says. 

He stopped drinking at all basically after their honeymoon when they started trying to get pregnant. It was the one thing that his cardiologist approved of. 

Jared’s wife, Genevieve is sitting at the bar, probably so that she doesn’t have to look up to talk to people all night, and he greets her before he feels a hard slap to his shoulder. 

Christian turns around just in time to block Riley’s playful jab at his stomach. “Hey, man!” Riley starts, excited as always as he tries fruitlessly to punch Christian again. “Dude, I…”

“Hey!” Steve’s voice is suddenly loud and authoritative, making Riley freeze in his tracks. “No hitting.”

“Steve, what the…?” Christian fires back, the smile dropping off of his face. “He’s not really…”

Steve rushes to his side, not at all deterred by the irritation in Christian’s voice as he pulls Christian into his side with a sheepish expression. Teasingly, he bats Riley’s hand down, and explains, “He’s pregnant.”

Christian’s actually surprised, and almost a little put out that Steve just said it like that, not to mention the overprotective caveman act, like he can’t put down Riley in a second. But no one else seems to think Steve did anything obnoxious. They’re laughing and the girls are squealing and Steve’s arm is around him, squeezing him tight.

“Congratulations!” Genevieve tells him, her voice high-pitched with excitement. 

“Drinks!” Jensen’s deep voice cries out from down the bar. “You finally knocked him up! I was starting to worry about you, Steve,” Jensen laughs. 

Riley is still shaking off his initial shock at being reprimanded, but even Christian is starting to smile when David claps him on the back. He can’t help looking at Steve’s face, seeing the happiness, the pride there, and Steve is looking back at him. 

Then Jared is shoving a shot into Steve’s hands and Steve is laughing. All their friends have gathered almost in a circle around them, all holding a shot except him, and then Riley pushes a red frozen drink at him. It has an umbrella in it. 

“And a virgin daiquiri for you,” Riley says laughing. 

Christian can’t help chuckling a little despite himself at the ribbing and holds up the horrific concoction as Jensen starts to speak. 

“Congratulations, you two,” Jensen says simply, and everyone downs their shot, even the bartender, Erik. 

Christian hesitantly sips at the straw of his daiquiri only to find that it’s pretty tasty, just a really sweet smoothie. And Steve has seemingly been trying to cut off his sugar intake or something. 

Jensen gives Steve a hug first, and then gives Christian a hug, and Jared practically tackles him, folding him up like a child in long arms. Riley’s hug is gentle and hesitant and Christian can’t help responding. 

“Son, I’m not gonna break,” Christian says, but he knows Riley’s still worried. 

Steve is huddled off to the bar to get more drinks, and David takes the opportunity to put an arm around Christian’s shoulders and move them towards the dart boards. 

David collects the darts while Christian takes another long drink of the daiquiri. He almost feels like a little kid, sneaking an extra cookie from the jar or something ridiculous. He hates feeling like Steve is his caretaker. He’s perfectly capable of taking care of himself, he’s been dealing with more than anyone knows for a long time. 

His lips are still wrapped around the straw when David steps back up to him. “So how’s it going?” David asks, seriously. 

David and his wife have two children and the last one had some problems so it makes sense that David would be a little worried. Of course, if Steve cheats on him while he’s pregnant like David cheated on his wife, Christian will kill him. 

Christian starts to shrug when David continues. “Been spending a lot of time with the toilet?” he asks with a chuckle. 

“More than when I first came out to LA, and you convinced me to go out every night,” Christian grumbles lowly. 

David laughs, his face looking scandalized and then he’s raising that one eyebrow. “I didn’t need to convince you. How far along? Into the second trimester?” David asks. 

“Yeah, how did you…?” Christian looks down at this stomach. It might be thicker, but he didn’t think anyone could tell with him wearing his regular tshirt and flannel. 

David just laughs at his confusion. “I know you. You wouldn’t tell us until after the first.”

“Well, I didn’t exactly tell y’all tonight,” Christian grumbles. 

David just laughs harder, but it dies off as Steve walks up. Steve and David have never exactly gotten along, though generally they can at least be in the same party together. 

“Did they tell you to sleep on your left side?” David asks, invoking the universal “they” that apparently hold all pregnancy knowledge. “It helps the placenta…”

“Hey, I brought you your water,” Steve interrupts. 

It seems like an innocent remark, but Christian’s hackles are already raised at the unvoiced complaint against him drinking the daiquiri. 

David seemingly heard the reprimand too. He’s coming to Christian’s defense before Christian can think of what to say. “Dude, it’s just one drink. He’s not going to end up with Diabetes because of one.”

“He needs to drink more water anyway,” Steve fires back, still holding the water. 

Christian can’t stand there and listen to them fight over what he should be doing, so he leaves. He walks over to Riley, putting him in a headlock despite that Riley was trying to flirt with two guys that just walked in. What’re friends for, right?

But it’s not long before David is walking back up to him while he’s standing at the bar, getting his own glass of water after he’s finished the daiquiri. 

“Look, I’m just really happy for you two,” David semi-apologizes. 

Christian’s already forgiven him and he gives David a quick fierce hug. He remembers when David was devastated after his first marriage failed, but he also remembers how jealous he was when David’s first child was born. And he knows that David knows he was jealous. 

“And don’t be too hard on Steve,” David says afterwards, a statement so out of the blue that Christian’s mouth actually drops open in shock. 

David only rolls his eyes at Christian’s expression before he continues. “I know how paranoid a man can get when he’s on the outside looking in,” David continues. 

Christian has to swallow hard at David’s words. He knows that he’s fighting pretty hard against Steve’s support. But David doesn’t know what it’s like to be a child and believe that no one is ever going to want him, and then to look at David’s beautiful baby boy and still feel that way as an adult. 

“Speak of the devil,” David says, just before two arms are snaking around Christian’s neck. 

Steve’s just a little drunk as he presses close to Christian, giving him an awkward hug from behind. “Are you ready?” Steve asks. 

Looking around, Christian realizes that everyone seems pretty ready to go. Well, everyone except maybe Riley who’s working on the only attractive guy in the room. It’s a little after midnight and they’re all old now. 

“Yeah,” Christian agrees, and he reaches for Steve’s hand as Steve steps from behind him. 

They don’t talk about their earlier disagreement. They’re both trying, but it’s hard for both of them. It seems a daily struggle. Christian just climbs into the driver’s seat as he heads for home. 

Steve is singing along to the radio softly, and they’re almost home when suddenly Christian takes his foot off the gas. A wave of nausea just suddenly engulfs him and he slams on the breaks, turning quickly into one of their neighbor’s driveways. 

“Ivestttt…!” he tries to talk while feeling like he’s holding his stomach contents in with his hand and scrabbling at the door. 

He tumbles out the car, immediately landing on his knees on the grass and puking up the bright red drink. It’s pretty sad that he’s thrown up enough to think that a daiquiri definitely isn’t the worse tasting thing on the way back up.

He’s stumbling back up to standing, grateful that the neighbor’s house is still dark when Steve’s hand lands on his back. 

“You ok?” Steve asks, simply. 

“Yeah. Normally when I puke after a night out, I at least got to be drunk, but…” Christian tries for humorous. 

Steve gives a short laugh, but they’re bustling back into the car before anyone sees them. 

Back at the house, though, Steve is all solicitous despite how many times that they’ve done this now. He wraps his arms around Christian’s waist, helping him into the house. But Christian doesn’t say anything, partly because he’s afraid to open his mouth in case his stomach rebels again. He suddenly doesn’t feel good at all, but tired and nauseous. 

All Christian wants to do is just get in his bed, but he forces himself to lazily brush his teeth and strip to boxers and a tshirt before he climbs into bed, clutching his pillow like its preventing him from falling out. 

He hears Steve getting into bed behind him, Steve’s movements seeming slow and steady compared to his own. And then Steve’s arm is snakes across his ribs and his body slides close. But all Christian feels is sick.  
***

[](http://s567.photobucket.com/albums/ss114/Melodious329/?action=view&current=mpregChris.jpg)

Christian wakes up four months later, lying on his left side in a fruitless attempt to sleep comfortably. He feels restless and miserable. He feels like he just can’t get a decent night of sleep, between having to pee and being hot and feeling like some sort of beached whale. It’s still dark in their bedroom and he grimaces into his pillow at the pain of heartburn in his chest. 

Steve’s arm is lying over him, his hand resting on Christian’s protruding belly. Still asleep, Steve responds to Christian’s movement, wiggling against Christian’s back. It’s the kind of thing that used to lead to slow sleepy sex and now it just makes Christian feel uncomfortable. 

The prospect of pushing his fat ass out of bed is pretty daunting, but he really has to pee. He feels like he’s tired just from being awake in bed. The whole mattress seems to rebound as he swings his legs out of the covers and rolls off the bed. He wonders how Steve manages to get any more sleep than he does. The only good thing is that Steve won’t be practically timing him in the bathroom.  
His digestion has slowed to a standstill and some pregnancy book told Steve that Christian shouldn’t strain himself on the toilet. It doesn’t matter that the doctor said that too.

Waddling to the bathroom, he fumbles with the string tie on his pajama pants, breathing harder just from the short walk lugging his weight around. He never used to have symptoms. The doctors had always said that he would experience symptoms as he got older, twenty years or more later, and the doctor said that he might start to experience symptoms with the pregnancy, but it’s different to actually experience symptoms. It scares him.

By the time he brushes and flosses his teeth and makes it back to the bedroom, Steve is awake, sitting up in bed and rubbing his bare chest with a hand, his blonde hair in disarray. Christian loves Steve likes this, but instead of pouncing on his husband, he turns away, trying to think about what ugly-ass maternity outfit to wear today. 

He doesn’t hear Steve coming up behind him, only feels hands kneading his tense shoulders. 

“You didn’t sleep well?” Steve asks, his voice low and tired. “Want me to give you a little massage again?”

The edges of Christian’s lips curl up at Steve’s kindness, but no matter how many times Steve rubs his feet, the bloating isn’t going to go away. It’s yet another sign that the pregnancy is putting even more pressure on his heart. 

He just shakes his head in answer, and Steve takes his hands away, moving towards the dresser. But not far enough when Christian lets one rip, again. It’s not like he never farted before, in fact he’s done it on purpose more than once, but this pregnancy is making it ridiculous. He wants to hold his nose around himself. 

Steve laughs a little, still amused by farting but trying to hold it back for Christian’s sake. He simply opens the drawers, running those same hands over the folded clothes of the drawer Christian had been staring at. 

“I like this blue one,” Steve says, taking out a blue cotton tshirt that looks somewhat like a scrub top. 

Christian grimaces. He hates these damn maternity clothes. Either they make him look like he’s hiding a beach ball or they look feminine. And he refuses to buy jeans with an elastic waist which leaves him only with pants that are basically sweatpants to wear to the set. 

“How can you like any of them?” Christian snarks. “I didn’t think about how awful maternity clothes are when we were trying to get pregnant.”

Steve laughs and Christian has to smile in return as he takes the shirt. The blue one is as good as any of the others. He barely even wears his beloved flannel shirts anymore. He’s too hot in them, which is something he never thought that he’d ever say. But as soon as he takes off the shirt he was sleeping in, Steve’s hands are on the taut skin of his belly. 

As much as he has always loved Steve’s hands on him, lately the intimacy of it makes Christian uncomfortable. He worries that it’ll lead to sex, and he doesn’t feel sexy, not with this stomach issues and his worries and his secrets. He’s just not into it. And then there’s the fact that he actually worries that sex will be too strenuous for his heart now, even though he’s too embarrassed to ask his doctor. 

So after a moment of letting Steve touch, he’s shrugging off Steve’s hands and pulling on the clean shirt, then quickly putting on new boxers and black sweatpants. He leaves his hair in a ponytail and reaches for a baseball cap. He’s pretty much given up on looking decent to go to work. He even has slip on shoes because otherwise he needs Steve’s help. 

“I’ll make some breakfast,” Steve calls out, already shuffling towards the kitchen. 

Christian nods absently, feeling guilty now because Steve doesn’t have to be up until later. Steve only has a meeting with a couple of clients later not an event. His husband’s just awake to be nice to him. And probably to make sure he doesn’t eat “sugar-filled” cereal for breakfast. He just gets so frustrated and takes it out on Steve. 

He thinks sometimes about just telling Steve, wonders sometimes if it would make him less stressed. But the thought of telling Steve now…how would he even start that conversation? Steve would be so pissed that Christian didn’t tell him before the pregnancy, and having Steve hate him would make him a lot more stressed than just keeping the secret. 

Besides he’s been dealing with this for his whole life, the knowledge that it’s progressive, that it will get worse throughout his life. He’s dealt with the checkups and the lectures about risks and the rules. He’s dealt with how people look at him when they know, like he’s supposed to stay home and be obedient. He doesn’t want Steve to look at him with pity, doesn’t want the threat of that someday when things will be worse hanging over Steve and their life together. He’d rather spare Steve that worry.

Sighing, he shoves his feet in his stupid shoes and waddles to the kitchen. He feels like there’s a basketball in his pelvis, trying to pop out between his legs. He smells the eggs cooking before he sees Steve drowsily stirring them at the stove. Sliding into a seat at the breakfast counter, he watches Steve absently reaches for his mug of coffee like a zombie.

Christian’s so tired all the time that he really wishes he could have some coffee. Christian is eating healthier than he has in his life, but it doesn’t seem to matter. Too much weight will cause his heart even more stress, but he’s still huge. And his heart is still getting worse. He’s started having symptoms during even mild activity and is edging into class three territory. 

Christian is snapped out of his musing when Steve slides a plate of plain eggs and dry toast in front of him like every other morning. So far he hasn’t had cravings so much as he doesn’t want things he used to like. Then Steve slides over a bowl of cut up fruit, apples and strawberries and even blueberries. It’s sweet that Steve bothers trying to be nice to him when he’s being such an ass. 

“Thanks,” Christian says a little self-consciously, popping a blueberry into his mouth to cover up his emotions. 

Steve doesn’t say anything. He’s used to Christian’s moods by now, used to dealing with Christian by not acknowledging his bitchiness. Steve simply brings over his own plate and sits at the counter beside Christian. But he brings with him a big vitamin bottle, setting it by Christian’s plate. 

Christian’s in the middle of shoveling his breakfast in so he can make it to the set on time, when Steve says, “Remember to take your vitamin.”

It sets Christian off immediately. “I’m not an idiot. I’m trying to take care of this baby just as much as you are. You’re not the one actually carrying it,” Christian snaps, grabbing the vitamin bottle and getting his bag to leave for work. 

He leaves Steve and the rest of his breakfast sitting at the counter. Just a second ago, he was resolving to be nicer to Steve but then he just goes off. Steve makes him feel like he’s not doing everything he could for this baby, for this pregnancy, playing on Christian’s guilt for wanting to have a baby with his medical condition. 

Angry now at himself, Christian slams his hand against the steering wheel as he drives to work. He shows his ID at the gate, trying to shrug off his bad mood as the security guard calls for his ride to the set.

He’s even riding around in a golf cart nowadays. At first he resisted it, but even Gina says it was a nice accommodation during her pregnancy. His coworkers don’t seem to have noticed that anything’s different with his pregnancy. They’re still so excited for him. They’ve really become more than coworkers, more than friends in a short period of time. 

Tim is practically waiting for the cart to stop at the set, reaching out to help Christian off without offering. But Tim doesn’t draw attention to it, just starts talking about the day’s scenes immediately, letting Christian know that he is certainly still expected to be at the top of his game. It makes Tim’s help easier to take. 

But just before walking off, Tim pats him on the back, giving him that fatherly look that makes Christian want to confess everything, to just have Tim tell him that everything was going to be ok. He just wishes he had someone to tell him that he’s doing everything right.

Christian watches Tim walk away for a moment, before he waddles over to his seat where his assistant waits. Clayne isn’t titillated by his pregnancy, doesn’t talk about it all, but he’s ready to immediately hand Christian a bottle of water. 

Christian is just opening his mouth to thank the guy when Gina is suddenly appearing at his elbow. Gina herself recently had a kid, but apparently she has plenty of mothering left over for Christian. She’s carrying some kind of herbal tea, constantly trying to get him to try these home remedy type health stuff, prompting Christian to constantly try to get rid of them, too scared to drink even a sip. 

He doesn’t even have the drink in his hands when Beth, the director of photography, is rushing over like a hurricane, as hyper as her seven year old son. She rubs his belly with a brilliant smile on her face like she does every morning, some strange good luck ritual. 

“The starlet has a problem with her costume,” she says casually, but she and Christian share a gleeful smile while Gina immediately frowns at the news. 

Shoving the drink in Christian’s hands, Gina rushes away for yet another one of the starlet’s tantrums. Clayne takes it away immediately with a knowing smirk and Christian slowly lowers himself into his chair. 

Beth seems to be more suspicious than the others that Christian isn’t feeling well, and she’s fiddling with some camera lenses in her hands. But he knows she won’t outright say anything. 

“Need anything?” she asks instead. “Another water?”

“I’m gonna fucking float away, I drink so much water,” he answers. 

She smiles wider at the characteristic response. “Better stop cursing before the little tyke gets here,” she says, laughing as she flounces away again. 

The last of his visitors gone, Christian turns back to Clayne, opening his mouth to ask if Clayton got the prop he asked for yesterday when he stops. Sighing loudly, Christian says, “I have to pee.”

Clayton just fucking laughs at him as he goes. 

The day goes fairly well and Christian eats a tasteless lunch from catering with Aldis, the only one who doesn’t talk about the pregnancy all the time. But he misses the way he and Aldis used to horse around though. 

By the afternoon he’s tired just from being awake and has made Clayton get him a box the right height to use as a footstool. Gina brings him a sandwich, just like he used to bring her one. Gina’s aren’t quite as good and he hears Steve’s voice telling him that he only needs 300 extra calories a day even while he’s eating it. He’s hungry and tired and it would be rude not to. 

He’s finishing up one half of the sandwich when David walks in. Christian doesn’t even bother to get up when he sees his oldest friend, but stuffs the last bite in his mouth.

David slaps him on the back, more gently than normal. “Hey man, you doin’ ok?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Christian says, trying to seem nonchalant. “What’re you doing here?”

“Actually, I came for some help. I’m havin’ some problems with this scene for the show,” David explains, already going into an explanation of the fight scene. 

“See I’m trying to get the guy down and I step…”

Christian stands slowly, interrupting David’s monologue. “No, you should step this way or he can’t get out.”

It’s fun. It’s been a long time since Christian worked with David and it feels like a long time since Christian did anything more than talk about fight scenes and sketch them out for Clayton. 

It’s easy for Christian to get carried away, to start moving too fast even though it still feels so slow. Without any other warning, he’s suddenly struggling to drawn in each breath, his heart beating like a hummingbird’s wings. 

Stumbling back from David, Christian presses a hand to his chest like he can slow his heartbeat manually. He’s noisily sucking in air, trying to get enough, and he doesn’t realize he’s also bent over until David’s hands are on him, pulling him back towards his chair. 

“Hey, hey, breathe, tough guy,” David murmurs, acting like he’s talking to his son. 

Christian doesn’t have breath to spare to say anything and David quiets, but his hands don’t leave Christian’s shoulders. It seems to take forever until Christian feels he’s getting enough air again.

“I’m fine,” he chokes out with his recovered breath. 

“Is everything ok?” David asks, his quiet voice breaking through Christian’s focus on his own body. 

“F-fine,” Christian says, coughing a little. But it’s obvious David’s not asking about just this minute. “I just get tired, you know.”

But this time David isn’t going to let him off the hook with excuses. “You having blood pressure problems or diabetes?”

“No,” Christian says with a scowl, defensive at the idea that David might be onto the truth. “There aren’t any complications. I’m just the size of a beached whale.”

David doesn’t look convinced. David’s seen his wife go through both a healthy pregnancy and a difficult one. He knows that Christian’s symptoms aren’t normal. 

Christian runs a hand through his hair. He is fine. He just needs to remember to take it easy, and he has remembered. He has tried so hard to be good, to take the vitamins that make him feel sick and drink the ten gallons of water and let himself be ferried around. He won’t let himself forget again.  
***

The next afternoon, Christian only goes into work for a couple of hours because he and Steve have another birthing class that afternoon. 

At this point, he thinks the whole thing is kind of stupid, but he knows that he’s supposed to go. He also knows it’s important to Steve. They’ve already had the class where they toured the facilities of the hospital, and he admits that was important. And they’ve watched the graphic movie about birth which Christian really could have done without. 

Now they’re going to talk about relaxation and different medical interventions and stuff. He knows all about it already. His OB has outlined it all to him. A C-section with anesthesia is too dangerous if it can be at all avoided, but he’ll need an epidural to lessen the stress on his heart. And an epidural means being trapped in that bed with a continuous fetal monitor, etc. He doesn’t really get a choice on his “birth experience”. 

So he might be a little bitter. Sitting through those classes with all of those happy parents-to-be and Steve’s excitement is hard when he’s so worried most of the time that he just wants to hide in his bed most days. 

“Oh, come on, honey bear,” Steve says, pushing him into the classroom even as he’s making fun of the pet names some of the other students’ use. 

Steve’s carrying their sleeping bag and the pillows that they’re asked to bring to each class. Christian’s only carrying his own giant ass. 

He waddles to the very back of the classroom where he waits with his hands on his lower back as Steve sets up their stuff on the floor. Then Steve is reaching out a hand to help him down there, and Christian tries not to grumble too much about the wisdom of forcing pregnant people to sit on the floor. 

Once he’s nestled between Steve’s knees, Steve kisses his cheek and says, “Don’t be pissy. You won’t even let me come to the doctor’s appointments, the least you can give me is this. I will be there at the birth,” Steve says, chuckling almost nervously. 

“I don’t keep you from the appointments,” he outright lies, scared stiff that Steve’s going to ask him why he can’t come to the doctor. 

Steve just holds him tighter for a second. “I know it’s hard, Christian. You don’t like to feel vulnerable and exposed, and sitting there in a paper gown…” 

It’s a pathetic attempt at humor and Christian is feeling way too tense to even pretend to laugh. 

“We’re both trying, right?” Steve says after a moment. 

“Yeah,” Christian says, and he makes a conscious effort to relax back into Steve’s body. 

It seems to relax Steve too. It seems no matter what he does it hurts Steve, tell Steve, don’t tell Steve, none of the choices are very good. But he hates that he’s made Steve feel like he’s not a part of this, of their family. He just doesn’t know what else to do.

“Alright now,” the instructor starts, getting all of their attentions. “Let’s start with some relaxation exercises.”

Christian tries to be a good sport. The instructor is just too perky and young and female, and the exercises make him feel a little ridiculous. He’s not really the one for all this new age-y meditation, that’s more Steve’s thing, and he has to wonder how in god’s name that breathing exercises are going to make him feel better when he’s pushing a baby out of his ass and worrying about having a heart attack at the same time. Yeah, no…

He gives the instructor a fake grin when she walks around the room, checking on everyone. Huffing like a good little moron as Steve softly strokes his belly through his tshirt. 

Steve keeps petting him, stroking his arms as the instructor goes through some of the pain medication options and their side effects, blah blah blah. Despite the movement of Steve’s hands, he knows Steve is listening intently to it all. 

Then they have a break, which is an excuse for the pregnant people to mingle with each other and drink some water. And go to the bathroom considering that this is a group of people in the last trimester of their pregnancy. 

Christian doesn’t like to hang out with the others. The only other pregnant man is this cute young slender blonde who is so in love with his husband that it sends other people into a diabetic coma just to be near them.

“I’m fucking hot,” Christian whines as Steve helps him up off the stupid ground. 

Steve just laughs at him. “I never thought I’d hear you say that,” he teases. “But now you know how I feel all the time while you’re bundled up.”

Christian grabs a little cup of juice when one of the other pregnant women speaks to him. Betsy, he remembers, and she’s much too social that she isn’t warned away by the scowl on his face. 

“Have you decided on your birth plan yet?” she asks him. 

He hastily swallows the liquid in his mouth. He can feel Steve at his elbow and they haven’t discussed it yet. 

“I’ve thought about it,” he obfuscates. 

“Yeah? Are you having medications or only as a last resort? I think that I’m planning on the epidural myself,” she continues, oblivious to his plight. 

He nods agreeably, but she’s staring at him, waiting for him to tell her his own plan. “Well, I was thinking, I’ll have an epidural too.”

“Really?” Steve speaks up then, just as Christian knew he would. “We haven’t talked about medications. Are you sure that you want…?”

“Now, now,” the instructor coos at them, coming up behind them and taking them both by surprise. “We want to be supportive of our partners’ choices, not undermine them.”

Her smile is toxic, and Steve goes quiet as they meekly return to their sleeping bag. 

“If you would like an epidural, I am for what will make you comfortable,” Steve says carefully once they’re sitting. “I just didn’t know you were thinking about that.”

Christian doesn’t know what else to say. He can imagine that Steve must be confused why Christian, the guy who won’t take an aspirin after a rough day of stunts suddenly wants to numb the lower half of his body during the birth of their child. 

“I just think…it would make me more comfortable,” he replies, lamely.  
***

Christian does take it easy. He’s as good as his word and he stays off his feet as much as possible, sending Clayne to do even the most minor of tasks. 

He’s actually so good that his coworkers become suspicious. Every one of them has asked if there’s something wrong that he needs more help. 

Still when he gets home, he’s exhausted. His feet are swollen, the baby is kicking his bladder, and he could fall asleep standing up. He barely makes it to the couch , sinking into it gratefully and thinking he’d like to never leave. 

And then Steve walks in the room, looking more cheerful than any person needs to. 

“You’re not gonna change before heading over to my parents?” Steve asks. 

Mentally, Christian curses himself for forgetting they’re supposed to have dinner over there tonight. His mouth is already opening to say that he doesn’t want to anywhere tonight when he sucks in a breath to stop himself. 

He’s been saying no a lot recently. Normally he’d at least try to be more accommodating, but since the pregnancy he’s been more apt to take care of himself rather than placate anyone else. 

But they really haven’t been over to Steve’s parents in a while and Christian hates that he’s just constantly disappointing everyone. 

“Not changing,” Christian says in answer, his voice sounding sullen even to himself. 

Fifteen minutes later, he’s heaving himself off the couch and trudging to the car, trying to work up enough energy to be safe around people again. 

Steve just ignores his bad mood, even reaching over in the car to squeeze Christian’s hand. But he doesn’t say anything. It’s both annoying and comforting that Steve does ever get upset with his shitty attitude. 

Chris, Steve’s Dad, meets them at the door and suddenly Christian has a smile on his face and can manage to speak in full sentences rather than just grunts. 

“Good to see you,” Christian says as Chris pulls him into a hug, the older man’s body twisting out of the way of his stomach like they all do. 

As soon as Christian is released, he’s moving further into the house, making his way to the kitchen where he knows he’ll find Steve’s mom. She’s in the middle of chopping radishes for the salad but she presents her cheek for a kiss. 

He doesn’t even get the offer to help out of his mouth before she’s shooing him out of the kitchen. She never does let him help. She loves cooking almost as much as Steve does though their styles are completely different. 

Heading back out to the living room, he passes Steve in the hall heading to the kitchen. Christian goes ahead and takes a seat on the couch with Chris, baseball game on the tv. By the time he’s managed to get himself down onto the couch without falling, Steve is back, having received the same treatment in the kitchen. Steve brought him a glass of water, but keeps the beer. Christian tries not to look at the bottle too enviously, instead concentrating on Chris telling them what’s been going on the in the game so far. 

Now that Christian is quiet again the baby is doing jumpin’ jacks in his stomach and he quickly loses the thread of conversation. But Steve is responding so he supposes it’s ok. 

It’s not long until they hear Sandy’s voice shout from the kitchen. “It’s almost ready. How about you boys set the table?”

Tired of getting up and down, Christian still forces himself to scoot to the edge of the couch in preparation for standing up to help. But then Chris’s hand is falling on his knee, just a light touch to get his attention. 

“Guess you don’t need to bother helping,” Chris says with a teasing grin. 

Christian knows that it’s just a tease, but he suddenly feels so hurt and frustrated and useless. Pushing himself up off the end of the couch, he rushes towards the little hall bathroom trying to stifle the little sobs that he knows he’s making. He slams the door on both of the other men. 

He’s being ridiculous, but as soon as that door is closed he’s bursting outright into tears, the sobs shaking his shoulders even as he puts one hand to his mouth like that’ll stop the sounds or the feelings or something. 

Avoiding the mirror, he puts the seat down on the toilet, dropping onto it and grasping at the roll of toilet paper to wipe his face. He knows that they can hear him from outside the door, that Steve can hear him and wondering what the hell is wrong with him that he’s sobbing like a baby. 

He feels like he’s letting out an entire storm of emotions and even though it seems to last forever, he does feel better when the tears slow. When he’s cried himself out, he feels almost empty, relaxed and even more exhausted. 

It’s not the first time that he’s had a crying fit during the pregnancy, but he’s still embarrassed. Especially knowing that he has to go out there and make it through dinner without just falling asleep on the table. 

Splashing cold water on his face doesn’t help his haggard appearance much, but it feels good at least for a second and then Christian can’t delay any longer. He opens the door to see Steve and Chris sitting on the couch looking anxious. He feels so stupid. 

Steve stands up immediately but Christian brushes off his concern with a shake of the head. Chris also looks embarrassed and Christian knows they make a pair right now. 

“Sorry, pregnancy you know,” Christian growls, his voice still thick from his outburst. 

Chris chuckles just a little, looking grateful for the ice breaker. “I do know a thing or two,” the grey-haired man says. 

Sandy pops her head in then, saying, “Dinner’s served,” cheerfully before she notices the atmosphere of the room. 

Steve puts his hand on the back of Christian’s shoulder and Christian recognizes the question there, but he simply nods and starts after Sandy to the dining room. He didn’t even want to come but now that he’s here, he’s just going to tough it out. Not that he manages to eat a whole lot at dinner. 

“So how are you feeling?” Sandy asks after they’ve all had a minute to start eating. 

Christian bites his lip, thinking a moment before answering. “I’m doin’ good. Just tired,” he evades. “It’s hard to get enough sleep, you know?” 

She smiles because she undoubtedly does know. It’s only a half-lie but it makes him want to talk to his own momma so badly, just to have one person to talk to about his concerns. But he knows his momma, and he doesn’t want to hear her yell at him. It’s done now, too late to turn back no matter how mad she is. Course she’d insist that he tell Steve. 

And he’s so close. Only two months to go and things are going as well as can be expected. His heart condition has moved up one class but the doctors tell him that’s not unusual and should be temporary with the pregnancy. The doctor has mentioned drugs like diuretics or surgery, but so far he doesn’t have to do anything that might hurt the pregnancy. 

He manages a few more bites, mostly to make it look as if his mouth is occupied than anything else. Steve does look worried about Christian’s attitude now. He’s shoveling his own food in his mouth as if that will let them get out of here quicker. Christian averts his eyes back to his own plate. 

But despite his meager attempts at eating, it apparently hasn’t escaped Sandy’s notice. 

“Christian, honey, are you not feeling well? Maybe you should lie down instead. I’ll bring you some warm milk,” she says, already standing up to help him. 

All Christian wants is to be alone. He wants to go home, but he allows Sandy to shuffle him towards the couch. Steve stands up, opening his mouth as if he’s going to protest but he doesn’t. Christian can’t decide if he’s pissed or not when Steve doesn’t stand up for him since he didn’t stand up for himself. 

He goes willingly enough when Sandy pushes him down. She grabs for all the pillows immediately but before she can push him to lie down, Steve is there, sliding in behind him. Steve’s arms wrap around him before they’re both leaning back, Steve’s chest providing a perfect pillow for him to rest on. 

He only closes his eyes for a second when Sandy is back, a mug of warm milk in front of his eyes. Sleepily, he takes it, the warmth seeping into his cold, bloated hands. He doesn’t normally like milk, but she’s added something sweet and it’s warm, and he’s comfortable with Steve’s chest under his cheek and Steve’s hands on his belly. 

He feels like he’s relaxing for the first time in a long time, not worrying about hiding or exerting himself. He’s not even worried that he’s imposing on Steve’s parents as Sandy puts a light afghan over his lap and Chris turns on the tv. 

By the time that he’s finished the milk, he’s almost sorry to leave. Of course, Sandy offers them a guest bedroom to use. 

“No,” Steve replies to her. “Do you think you can stay awake to get home?” Steve asks, just a hint of amusement in his voice. 

“Yeah, I do have to work tomorrow,” Christian says, allowing Steve to help push him to sit up and then stand. 

The car is uncomfortable after the warmth and comfort of the couch, but soon enough, they’re home. Christian stumbles directly into the bathroom and then into bedroom, no passing Go, no collecting two hundred dollars. He’s too lazy to even put on a tshirt and pants like he normally does nowadays. 

It seems a while as Steve totters around getting ready, but as soon as Steve snuggles up behind him, Christian seems to rediscover his long dormant sex-drive. Steve’s hot skin is soft against his own and Steve’s hands are petting his belly again, but Christian can’t resist pushing his ass back into the curve of Steve’s hips. 

“Hey,” Steve whispers, pushing Christian’s curly hair away from his face. “We don’t have to…”

“I want to,” Christian whispers back, moving his hips again. 

He reaches his hand back behind him, groping blinding at Steve’s boxers until he reaches warm skin. It’s been a long time since they’ve been close like this, seemingly forever. He squeezes Steve’s thigh hard. 

“It’s ok,” Steve breathes, his breath stirring Christian’s loose hair. “I’ll take care of you.”

Steve’s hands slide up from the taut skin of Christian’s belly to his chest. Christian is moaning at just the light touch on his now even more sensitive skin. But it’s amazing how at this moment, the soreness only serves to make him hotter instead of uncomfortable. 

Steve starts by gently massaging his pec muscle, moving closer and closer to Christian’s ultra-sensitive nipple until a single swipe across one elicits a loud moan. Steve rubs it harder for a moment with his palm, but then his hands are on Christian’s boxers, pushing them down quickly. Steve moves away for a moment, the bed shaking with his movements. 

Slipping one arm underneath the curve of Christian’s neck, Steve presses closer, their skin already sweaty and Steve panting on the side of his face. Christian’s nails accidentally scratch Steve’s forearm as he grips it, keeping it there, but he helpfully lifts up his top leg. It’s harder than it should be, his muscles feel weaker already. 

Fortunately, Steve wastes no time, his finger simply slick his hole briefly before one is pressing inside. Christian’s still relaxed, and eager and he doesn’t need anything more. 

“Now, now, c’mon, fuck,” Christian isn’t even making sense anymore. 

But then Steve’s arm is holding his leg up and Steve’s dick is pressing inside, and his breathing speeds up. He’s starting to wonder if this was a terrible idea. 

“Shhh,” Steve holds him still, cock still deep inside. 

Christian can feel each of Steve’s slow deep breaths. “Shhh, baby doll. Slow, I want to feel you, feel…me,” Steve finishes with a slow thrust. 

Taking a deep breath, Christian relaxes again, feeling each thrust, concentrating on Steve’s skin against his, on Steve’s arm around his chest. Steve wanting to have romantic, slow sex is exactly what he needed. 

“Perfect,” Christian mumbles, and then his breath is punched out of him on the next thrust. “Unh…”

“Touch yourself,” Steve pants. “Pull on it.”

Christian had seemingly forgotten entirely about his dick, about cumming, but as soon as he’s touching himself, his orgasm feels right there. He tightens his grip, squeezing the head of his dick. 

“Love you, love you, God, fuck, I…” Steve breaks off as his hips falter. He’s pressing his face against Christian’s temple hard, squishing his nose. 

Christian’s breath catches as he cums, spilling over his hand. For a moment, it’s perfect, but then he’s trying to breathe deeply through the aftereffects, slow his racing heart. He’s trying immediately to hide his condition again. 

Steve is there too, rubbing his belly and thigh, kissing his temple. They lay there for a long minute, Christian focused on his breathing, focused on the soothing rhythm of Steve’s hand. It was too close, too much of a risk. 

Slowly, Steve pulls out and goes into the bathroom. Christian’s cum-splattered hand goes unconsciously to his belly, his worries returning, forcing out his earlier relaxation. He suddenly feels cold as the sweat dries on his skin. He can feel himself pulling away again. 

Steve returns with a washcloth and he chuckles a little at seeing the mess, Christian’s made of his belly. 

“You have no idea how hot you look right now,” Steve whispers, leaning in to give him a kiss even before he starts to clean Christian up. 

Christian is silent as Steve cleans his hand and belly, but grabs the cloth to clean the cum seeping out of his ass. Steve silently puts the cloth back in the bathroom before quickly returning to climb back into bed. 

“Are you ok,” Steve asks. “Not feeling nauseous or anything?”

“No, I’m fine,” Christian says, knowing that he doesn’t sound very convincing. “Just tired still, again.”

It’s not a very good excuse when normally Christian is the one falling asleep immediately after orgasm. 

“Let me cover you up,” Steve says softly, pulling the covers. But he doesn’t let it go. “Sure you don’t need any water? Or something to eat?”

Christian’s hand is still rubbing at his belly, worrying at his ability to keep everything hidden, worrying that if something did happen that it could really be serious, for him and the baby. 

“No, I’m fine,” Christian says. He’s almost too tired to sleep. 

“I can make you anything you want,” Steve offers. “Any craving? You love my cooking. What about my special quesadillas? Ice cream and pickles?” Steve offers, teasing as he pressing back up against Christian. 

“No,” Christian says, chuckling. “I’m fine really. I don’t need anything.”

“Ok,” Steve says, shifting to get more comfortable. “But if you suddenly need my salmon cake bites or anything…” he leaves it open-ended.

Christian smiles in spite of himself at Steve’s offer, but then it’s just silent and dark. Unsurprisingly, his mind is still going instead of sleeping. He’s being so weird, it’s amazing that Steve doesn’t know that something is up with him yet. But Steve is still offering him food in the middle of the night, still taking care of him even though he’s more likely to bite the hand that feeds him. 

And now he’s thinking about food and getting hungry. The baby suddenly moves, kicking him hard as if reminding him that they missed most of dinner. Biting his lip on a grunt in response, Christian rubs his stomach harder, trying to soothe the baby inside. 

It’s stupid to wake Steve up to get him food. But then again, Steve’s always complaining that he doesn’t lean on Steve enough. He’s been so worried about needing too much help and giving away his weakness that he really hasn’t been leaning on Steve even a normal amount. He knows he’s pushing Steve away without even meaning to. 

His stomach growls and Steve shifts behind him, letting out a little snore. Well, Steve did say if he wanted anything. 

Christian gently pokes Steve with his elbow, then harder as Steve doesn’t immediately wake up. 

“Christian? Wha…what is it?” Steve sounds still mostly asleep. 

“I’m kinda hungry,” Christian whispers, feeling a little stupid as he says it. Though, it’s not like he’s never whined at Steve to go  
get him food. But that was before. 

“Hungry?” Steve mimics, sounding confused. “Oh, that’s fine,” Steve says, sounding more awake and moving more. “What do you want me to make.”

“Frozen burrito,” Christian says in a small voice, trying not to laugh. 

“What?” Steve says, leaning over to see Christian’s face. He looks torn between laughing and yelling. 

“You said anything,” Christian retorts, letting his own amusement into his voice. “We ran out of the good kind and you won’t let me have Taco Bell.”

“You really want Taco Bell?” Steve asks seriously. 

“Yes,” Christian pouts. 

“Fine, just this once,” Steve says, getting out of bed. “Anything else you want while I’m up?”

“No,” Christian says with a smirk. “Not that I can think of right now.” 

Steve laughs. “Well, think hard about it before I get back.”  
***

A week later, David is coming over to Steve and Christian’s place bringing his wife and two kids. They’ve got tickets to a minor league baseball team all together. Christian is more excited to see Jaden, David’s son than his friend. Even though, right now there’s no way that he can even bend over, much less play with the kid like he used to. 

They leave the front door unlocked and as soon as it opens, Jaden is falling inside, running straight over to Christian. 

But Steve is moving swiftly over to intercept the eight year old, smoothly swinging the kid up into his arms. Jaden’s immediately laughing at the attention. 

Despite his jealousy that he can’t pick up Jaden, Christian watches Steve and smiles. Christian knows that Steve and David will never get along that well, but it’s wonderful to see how Steve is with a kid. It makes him remember why exactly he’s going through all of this. 

Reaching out a hand to rub the little boy’s back, Christian says, “Hey buddy, you ready to go to the game?”

“Yeah!” Jaden squeels, kicking his heels to get down so he can run to the door again. 

The rest of them follow slower, piling into two cars. Steve holds his hand on the way, both of them still smiling, Jaden’s excitement rubbing off on them. Christian is sure they’re both thinking about the same thing, both wondering how it will be when they meet their own kid. 

It’s both wonderful and frustrating when they walk into the minor league baseball stadium. Christian has always loved baseball but right now he can’t even toss a ball around with Jaden. And the smell of all that food that he’s not supposed to have. He brought his own snacks, like his grandmother used to. Course when he actually has this kid then they’ll never go anywhere again without a bag full of snacks. 

They’ve barely had their tickets scanned when Christian is breaking off from the group to head to the bathroom. He tells Steve to get him a water while he’s gone. 

When he joins them at their seats, he can see that Jaden is already munching messily on popcorn. He wants some popcorn. But they did thoughtfully save him the aisle seat so that he can get out when his bladder next attacks. 

Unfortunately by the fifth inning, Christian is really uncomfortable. Baseball just isn’t as much fun pregnant with not hotdogs and no beer. The seats are miserable and climbing the concrete stairs to the bathroom sucks. Steve keeps ahold of his nearest hand, rubbing it in comfort and an effort to keep Christian’s mind off of it, but it’s just not working. 

The next time Christian has to get out to the go to the bathroom, instead of coming straight back to his seat, he stays at the top of the stairwell, wanting to stand up for a little bit. 

Jaden is, of course, more interested in pretty much everything that’s not the game and turns around to spy Christian at the top.  
Christian watches David look up and him. He can’t tell what David says to the kid, but then Jaden scrambles out of his seat, heading up the stairs towards him. He thinks he sees Steve getting up too, but his attention is taken by Jaden running up the stairs. 

Christian doesn’t need to speak to David to know that he’s supposed to watch Jaden for a minute. Jaden runs at his leg, giving his knee a big hug and then taking off again. He follows the kid heading to the left side of the stands, where a green grassy hill has become a playground for lots of little munchkin people. 

But Jaden isn’t watching where he’s going and he runs right into this man walking by, the man’s arm hits Jaden…Christian watches, frozen in horror for a moment as he watches the man’s swinging arm knocking Jaden down a concrete stairwell…

Christian runs, sprinting faster than he would have thought possible when he’s this far along. He’s freaking out even as he lunges out to grab Jaden’s wildly flailing arm. 

Overbalancing, Christian falls on his knees but he yanks the boy to his chest as he falls. Jaden is giggling, laughing at the close call and expecting Christian to join in, but Christian can’t catch his breath. His heart seems to be skipping a beat, but not just once, it’s like his heart no longer has any sort of rhythm. 

“Christian!” he hears Steve’s worried voice but Steve’s face is swimming in front of him. “Christian!”  
***

When Christian wakes up, he feels groggy. He’s propped up on a bed and he’s cold, but he doesn’t remember…

Opening his eyes in confusion, Christian is surprised to see Steve and David standing over him both looking tired and angry with red-rimmed eyes. 

“Whh..?” Christian starts to speak, tries to reach out, but his arm and lips don’t seem to be fully under his control. 

Steve moves over, catching his flailing hand and holding it. But Steve doesn’t look right, his lips are thin and his jaw tight. 

Christian starts, suddenly realizing why they’re looking at him like that, why the room looks so cold and unfamiliar. He struggles to sit up more, starting to pant and trying to talk. 

“I didn’t…did…?” Christian starts.

“Calm down,” Steve says. “You have to calm down. The baby’s fine but your heart…”

Steve trails off with a twisted expression, somewhere between devastated and furious. Christian lies back carefully again, afraid of what will come out of his husband’s mouth. Steve is crossing his arms over his chest now, a mirror image to David standing behind the blonde. 

“This whole time?” Steve questions, his mouth twisted up. “Do you know how I felt when you collapsed…”

“I’m sorry,” Christian says, his voice hoarse. 

But Steve’s sharp expression has Christian shutting his mouth with a clack. He knows there’s no excuse for not telling Steve, but he just never imagined that the secret would come out like this. He really thought that he would never have to tell Steve about any of it. 

Christian bites the insides of his cheeks, his own eyes burning now as he waits for Steve’s reaction, hating the agony he sees on Steve’s face. 

“How long…How did this happen? What happened?” Steve asks quietly, looking down at him. 

“I was a kid. I was just sick and they didn’t figure out it was rheumatic fever for a while since we moved so much,” Christian starts explaining. 

“You never said that you were sick as a kid,” Steve says, his voice still quiet, too quiet, sounding too final. 

Christian’s eyes start to feel wet even as he shrugs his shoulders in answer. “We moved around a lot, and I was sick so it was hard to make friends. I told you that.”

“But you knew, you knew before we got married, you knew that this pregnancy was dangerous,” Steve says, his voice sharp and accusing now. 

“I wanted to have kids,” Christian pleads now. “You wanted to have kids, and I was careful. This was an accident.”

“But you knew, and you didn’t warn me, didn’t even tell me. How could you not tell me that you have a heart problem?!” Steve asks, his voice getting higher and louder. 

Christian doesn’t even have a chance to respond when Steve’s moving back, moving away. Steve looks distraught, his hands rubbing his face vigorously. And then he turns his back on Christian. 

“I can’t…I just…” Steve mutters before he’s pulling open the door and walking away, not even shutting the door behind him. 

Christian’s crying before Steve is even out of sight. Covering his face with both hands, he doesn’t even try to quell the tears. He knew that this would happen. After keeping it a secret for three years, there was no way that he could tell. Steve was always going to leave him. No one wants to be with a person who’s sick. No one wants to have a child with someone like him. 

David’s large hand on his shoulder surprises him. He hadn’t realized that David was still in the room, thought that his friend would have left as well. But David is rubbing his shoulder, whispering soothing words that he can’t understand because he’s crying too hard. 

Gently, David pulls Christian’s head to lean against his broad chest, thick fingers combing Christian’s loose long waves. They’re still like that when there’s a knock on the door. 

It’s Christian’s cardiologist. Logically, he knows that David, and Steve, have recently been introduced to the doctor. He doesn’t dare look at David’s face. 

“Hello, Christian,” the doctor starts, sounding as patronizing as ever and studiously ignoring the obviously emotional scene before him. “I had hoped that it would not come to this. We need to perform the valvuloplasty that we have discussed previously.”

Christian is nodding, wiping his face with his hands even as David pipes up. “Could you explain the procedure again? I’m afraid I was too shocked to listen the first time.”

It’s only a gentle dig but Christian feels the sharp sting of the words all the same. 

“A cut will be made in the groin area and a balloon-tipped catheter will be threaded up into the heart’s mitral valve to enlarge its opening. It’s a reasonably safe procedure for the pregnancy,” the doctor explains. “It should immediately improve blood flow and you’ll only have to stay a few days in the hospital.”

David nods but his hand tightens on Christian’s shoulder almost painfully. He’s scared and there’s not a thing Christian can do to comfort his friend. Because he’s scared too. 

“We will plan for the procedure in a few hours, but water and food will be restricted until then,” the doctor finishes, explaining as much as he’s going to, apparently. 

But when he leaves again, it’s like he takes the air from the room with him. Christian grabs for a tissue on the table beside the bed, wishing he could hide under his blankets. He doesn’t have a thing to say to David. He knows that he must have scared the shit out of his friend too. 

But with Steve gone, it doesn’t even seem worth it to have the procedure. He never wanted to have a baby alone. He never wanted to be without Steve period.

“Don’t you want to yell at me?” Christian suddenly asks, hating the silence. He just wants to get it over with so he can be alone. “Or ask me shit?”

“Nope,” David says, smugly. “Sadly, I know you well enough that even this doesn’t surprise me.”

Christian doesn’t feel like even cracking a smile, but he’s glad he doesn’t have to talk about it anymore. He nibbles on this thumbnail nervously. 

“It’s going to be ok,” David tries. 

But Christian doesn’t want to hear stupid platitudes. He turns his face away on the bed, just wanting the time to pass more quickly. David doesn’t try talking again, but he doesn’t leave. 

Christian cries off and on. He’s scared, scared of the procedure that he’s tried so long to avoid, scared like he was as a child when they first told him “something is wrong with your heart” and he thought he was going to die right then. And now he’s scared of being a single parent with a heart condition, of having to move back in with his parents. He’s scared of never being loved again. 

He’s pulling the blanket up to his face, using it to dry his tears when Steve just walks back into the room. 

Steve looks as miserable as he feels, but as soon as he sees Steve’s face he can’t help the way the tears start coming harder again. If there is any way to convince Steve to stay…

“Baby,” Steve croons, sweeping closer, grasping at Christian’s hands until he lets go of the blanket. 

“What…?” Christian questions confused at the comforting behavior. 

David scurries out of the chair next to the bed and Steve simply drops into it. 

“Why are you back?” Christian asks, his face scrunched up in tears. 

“Of course, I’m back,” Steve says looking confused himself. “You didn’t think I’d leave you…”

Steve trails off, searching Christian’s face that is definitely showing that yes, he did think that Steve had left for good. 

“I was upset,” Steve explains in a rush. “I’m still upset, but I’m not going to leave you. I love you. I couldn’t live without you, or the baby. Chris, you crazy…”

This time when Steve trails off, it’s to lean closer, kissing Christian’s wet mouth softly. Then Steve leans his forehead against Christian’s. They stay there, sharing the same air until the doctor interrupts them again. 

As Christian is wheeled out of the room, Steve assures him, “I’ll be right here when you get back. You’ll be fine.”  
***

After the procedure, Christian spends one night in the cardiac care unit but everything turns out fine. He does a little walking around his hospital room the next day, but then he’s sent home with strict orders to stay on bed rest. 

His parents come to keep him company. They’re already at the house when Steve helps him inside to the couch. He knew they were coming but the sight of them after all this is frightening. He hasn’t spoken to them since the accident.

He goes stock still, just standing there in the living room with Steve beside him and the first words out of his momma’s mouth are “I’m so furious at you, but I’m not supposed to upset you so I won’t say anything more until after the birth.” 

Christian’s eyes fill with tears immediately, but his momma is there, pulling him into a hug, her hands rubbing his shoulders just like they did when he used to be sick as a kid. He can’t stand for her to be mad at him after everything else, but she’s true to her word and she doesn’t mention it again. 

In fact, no one mentions how mad he knows they are at him. Steve didn’t even mention it in the hospital, too busy asking him if he was in pain and if he needed anything or wanted to take a walk or wanted more jello, yada yada. Christian knows he should be grateful, but it worries him. It’s the 400 lb gorilla in the room that no one mentions but he can’t help staring at. 

His momma takes him from Steve and helps him onto the couch. Christian lies on his side there the rest of the day, only standing to go to the bathroom and sitting up only to eat. His mom spends most of the day in the kitchen, cooking some of his favorites, including soup that she freezes. His Dad sits in the recliner to Christian’s left as they watch a couple games and Christian dozes a little. 

But Christian worries more and more that Steve doesn’t seem to spend anytime with him now that they’re back at home. Steve flits between the kitchen and sitting with him in the living room, though he appears as if by magic every time that Christian needs to pee. He knows what Steve said in the hospital and Steve has been by his side, helping him with anything he needs, but his insecurity is still pointing out that Steve doesn’t want to be around him. Maybe Steve is only worried about the baby.

His worry increases exponentially as it gets closer to bedtime. He wonders if Steve is going to sleep in the bed with him. But at ten pm, much earlier than either of them normally go to sleep, Steve is there, helping him off the couch, saying goodnight to his parents. 

Christian is silent and obedient, letting Steve lead him to the bathroom and the bed. Steve even slides an extra pillow in between Christian’s knees, still so helpful, but Christian’s question is answered when Steve gets into bed, sliding up behind Christian, his arm taking his usual place slung over Christian’s protruding stomach. It feels right to have Steve’s breath on his neck again and Christian has to stop himself from clinging to Steve’s arm. 

But then Steve’s hand moves, from over his stomach to over Christian’s heart. And Christian is grabbing for that hand before he can even think about it, biting his lip to keep from crying again. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, even though he knows the words are wholly insufficient. 

“Sshhh,” Steve whispers, pressing impossibly closer, his breath fanning across Christian’s cheek. “Hey, baby doll, I’m just glad that you’re ok.”

Christian gives a jerky nod, not trusting his voice right then when his emotions are choking him. He clings to Steve’s hand with both of his own, but Steve just lets him, waiting until Christian is more under control. 

“I just want to know, I want to know what it was like for you, what you’ve been thinking keeping it a secret?” Steve finally continues. 

Christian’s first inclination is to be defensive sensing an attack, but then he feels relieved. It’s a relief to just tell Steve about how he’s been feeling through this, about how alone he’s been feeling. 

“It was just a sore throat,” Christian says, his defensiveness rising up again. “I wasn’t sniffling or sneezing or anything. We kept moving and I couldn’t miss anymore school, it just…it didn’t seem like a big deal. Except then I got sicker, a fever and everything hurt, my joints and my chest…”

It’s an old story, so old Christian barely feels the pain of it anymore but he can feel Steve pressing his face into Christian’s neck, his nose pressing in painfully hard. 

Christian clears his throat and starts again. “Anyway, the narrowing of the heart valve didn’t show up at first and then they said that I just had to keep an eye on it. I didn’t actually have any symptoms even with exercise but my parents and the doctors, they were all so worried all the time. I worked harder so people wouldn’t question whether I could do something.

When I came to LA, and nobody knew and nobody treated me like a patient, I didn’t want to tell anyone. And then I didn’t know how to tell you. I knew that pregnancy would put a strain on my heart, but I just wanted…But then the symptoms started and I just thought if I took it easy, and I was, I was taking it easy…” 

Steve huffs and Christian tenses, but only for a moment. He knows Steve isn’t going to leave him, isn’t going to hate him. 

“I wish I had known,” Steve says, and he sounds so disheartened that Christian just wants to make it all better. “I knew things were off, that you were worried and defensive and I told myself that it was just pregnancy hormones making you crazy or something.”

Christian smiles almost immediately and he can feel Steve’s lips smiling against his skin. Yeah, he’s crazy. 

***

Course ‘bed rest’ gets old incredibly fast. Steve has to go back to work, and there are only so many games that Christian cares about to watch in a day. His mom has him doing crazy tasks. She buys him a ton of baby books to read and then has him make some kind of baby photo album. Then she makes him organize photos of him and Steve so that he can make a photo album of just them. His Dad must be just as bored because he disappears a lot. 

He wishes he just had some sleeping pills or something that he could just sleep this part away. But he tries not to complain because it is, in fact, all his own fault. So he grits his teeth and tries not to toss and turn on the sofa and starts buying books on Steve’s Nook and says thank you every time that his momma brings him food even if he doesn’t feel like eating it. 

The swelling in his feet goes down some since he only walks from the bed to the couch and from the couch to the bathroom. He takes a shower every other morning with Steve waiting outside the door and probably timing him. But his muscles quickly start to hurt from the inaction, from lying in the same position, he doesn’t know why but he just feels uncomfortable all the time. 

Even though he naps some on the couch, he feels like he’s actually getting less sleep now. He just lies there as Steve snores steadily behind him until the morning when Steve helps him out of bed, to the bathroom, and to the couch. 

But then this morning, Steve steers him past the couch and towards the sliding glass doors. 

“Where’re we…outside?” Christian asks stupidly, feeling like his brain has atrophied by only a few weeks in bed as much as his muscles. 

“Yeah,” Steve says, the sun hitting his face like his smile is literally lighting up Christian’s life. “The doc said you had to lie down, not where and it’s a beautiful day.”

“You bought these loungers?” Christian asks looking at the cushioned lounge chairs now residing on their deck. He’s pretty sure they didn’t used to have lounge chairs. They had cheap plastic chairs out here. 

Steve just pulls him closer in answer and then Christian notices that it’s not just the chairs, there’re plates of food out here and their small cooler and their little iPod dock and even Christian’s sunglasses waiting for him. 

“Aren’t you working today?” Christian asks. 

“Nope, wanted to surprise you and give your parents the day off,” Steve says. 

Christian chuckles, “Who’s getting the day off from whom?” he asks teasingly, but breaks off into a hiss as Steve helps him down on the lounger. 

“Are you ok?” Steve says, and Christian hates the sound of not concern but fear in his husband’s voice. 

“Yeah, I’m fine,” he says, trying to find a comfortable position for his back and ass though moving his now larger shape is difficult. “I’m just sore,” he explains, knowing that Steve doesn’t trust him now.

Steve watches him with shadowed blue eyes as he shifts, but then the hawk-eyed watchful expression softens. “Want me to give you a massage after breakfast?” he offers sweetly. 

Christian cuts his eyes away before answering, “Nah, I’m fine.”

He doesn’t deserve Steve being sweet to him, and he hates for Steve to do anything else for him. So he grabs his sunglasses and changes the subject. “What’s for breakfast?”

Steve hands him a plate of eggs and toast and fruit just like before. A smile twitches at Christian’s lips, happy to see things get back to some kinda normal. Christian still isn’t hungry though. And Steve looks about as excited by the menu, but since the beginning Steve has tried to keep the same diet restrictions as Christian, at least in front of him. 

Christian doesn’t do anything to be hungry, besides the few gymnastics that the baby does in his belly. He’s still picking at his food when Steve is finished and putting his plate aside. 

Steve gets up to turn on some music, something beachy that goes with the sunshine and then he’s sitting back down, picking up Christian’s foot. 

“Really, you don’t have to,” Christian protests again, pulling his foot back but Steve doesn’t let go. 

Steve puts the foot in his lap and starts kneading the swollen skin around Christian’s ankle for a moment before reaching for a bottle of hand lotion. 

“I want to,” Steve says quietly. 

Christian can’t respond. He’s biting his lip so that he doesn’t moan out loud at the feel of the simple massage. He unconsciously tips his head back against the cushions. 

“Like that?” Steve asks, teasingly. 

Opening his eyes on Steve’s shit-eating grin, Christian can’t help but smile back in return. “Thanks,” he says sincerely. 

He lets out a long breath, consciously concentrating on the sound of the music and the sun on his face and Steve caring about him.  
Steve’s moved on to this other foot when Christian can feel a shift in Steve’s demeanor, a hesitance. 

“What?” Christian asks. 

Steve’s hands have slowed on Christian’s left ankle as if he’s considering his words before he speaks. “The swelling, is it because…?”  
Christian knows he has to be honest as much as he wants Steve to be entirely naïve of the struggles, the risks. “It’s worse because  
of my heart.”

Steve nods, seeming somewhat chastened as he continues the massage for another minute. But Christian doesn’t want his earlier lies of omission to ruin their day today so he reaches out an arm to lift the top of the cooler. 

“Want some water? Or…” he asks, sifting underneath a bunch of grapes and through the ice to see what else is in there. “Juice, Snapple?”

“Water’s great,” Steve says, smiling as he holds up his greasy hands. 

Christian takes the top off of the bottle and hands it over before grabbing a Snapple for himself. He’s setting it on the nearby table with his half-eaten plate of breakfast when Steve taps his flank. 

“Let me lay the chair down. If you’re on your side, I think I can get most of your back,” Steve suggests, already standing up.  
“No, I…” Christian tries but Steve’s already laying the chair back over his objections. 

It’s an awkward angle, but Steve keeps trying until he finds a rhythm to it. And Christian’s back is so sore that anything feels good, even through his thin undershirt. 

He’s getting hot in the sun, but when Steve stops the massage and lies down close behind him, he can’t find it in him to complain.  
“Hot?” Steve asks, chuckling as he always does at the change in Christian’s temperature. 

But then he’s reaching over Christian’s giant belly to open the cooler and grab a handful of grapes. “Want one?” Steve offers.  
But as Christian opens his mouth to answer, Steve pops one ice cold grape in his mouth. 

Christian stuffs the grape in his cheek and snarks, “Cute.”

But Steve’s fingers linger over his lips, smearing the cold water there. Instinctively, Christian licks his lips and the tips of Steve’s finger. Then he nips the finger lightly. 

Steve chuckles and presses his cheek against Christian’s pulled back hair. And then he presses another cold grape to Christian’s lips. 

It’s perfect for a while. Steve has one hand on his belly, following the baby’s movements. Unfortunately, then the baby takes Christian’s relaxation as reason to kick his bladder. 

“Uhh, whoa,” he mumbles, grabbing as his stomach as he tries to roll away from Steve. “Pee now,” he utters succinctly when Steve’s hands grab at him to steady him. 

“Really? Now?” Steve asks, peculiarly. “Wait, why don’t I…”

“Wait?” Christian barks. Steve has never made him wait for the bathroom since that test. 

And Steve rushes to the sliding glass doors, peering inside before turning back to help Christian who has rolled off onto the deck. 

“Yeah, ok, let me help you up,” Steve says, laughing as he helps Christian off his knees. 

“You’re hiding something,” Christian says, pulling on Steve’s helping arm to get up but then immediately going to the glass doors.  
First, he notices the balloons…in their living room, pastel-colored balloons by the couch he’s been practically living on. He barely  
notices Steve opening sliding the door open as he just stares, the whirr of the opening door resounding in his head. 

“What’s going on?” Christian asks, dumbly. 

And then David’s wife, Jaime pops out of their kitchen with a present in her hands. “Come in,” she says like it’s not their house. “Everyone’s just arriving.”

“Everyone who?” Christian asks again, but it seems everyone is ignoring him. He’s in his pajamas and an undershirt for god’s sake. 

Steve laughs a little as Jaime disappears back in the kitchen, steering Christian to the bathroom over his objections. 

When Christian comes out, there are all kinds of people in his living room and a lot more than just balloons. It’s like it snowed pink and blue and bows and ribbons. Even his parents are there. Even Steve’s parents are there. 

He’s still staring stunned when Jaime comes over with two glasses of what looks like pink lemonade in clear plastic cups. 

“We wanted to throw you a little baby shower,” Jaime explains, “especially since you aren’t able to go shop yourself.”

Christian nods, still feeling out of the loop. “Thank you,” comes out softly, but the hug he gives her then is hard. And then David is pulling him into a hug. 

“Alright, alright,” Steve says laughing at his shock. “Time to sit down again.”

David laughs himself and slaps Christian lightly on the back. “Bet that’s been tough.”

Christian throws a glare behind him as Steve leads him to the leather recliner so that he can still see everyone. Riley immediately comes and plops down on the couch nearest him. Riley’s mouth is already full and he’s chewing with his mouth open. 

“You knew about this?” Christian asks, having a hard time picturing Riley agreeing to pink and blue. 

“Yeah, man,” Riley mumbles as he tries to swallow. “The girls made food.”

Christian rolls his eyes, taking a sip of the lemonade as he turns his face back to the rest of the room. The girls are seemingly Jaime, Gina, and Beth who are bringing in platters of something bite-sized. 

Steve pulls up one of the migrated kitchen table chairs and sits beside Christian reaching for Christian’s free hand, looking at him like he’s the only person in this room. 

“Chicken salad,” Beth offers. 

Christian shakes off his emotions, and reaches out to take one before he even notices what they are. They’re little phyllo cups. “You’ve been waiting to plan a shower for one of your girlfriends, haven’t you?” he teases.

“Well, we weren’t going to leave the party to the boys,” she says smiling. Then she leans in to give him a kiss on his stubbled cheek. 

“Thank you so much,” Christian says sincerely, but Beth only winks at him and offers a chicken salad cup to Steve. 

“Hey,” Riley says and hops off the couch to get more food. 

The food’s only on the coffee table and it’s like a taunt that Christian can’t just go get some himself. He’s hungrier now than he has been for weeks. 

Steve must see him looking because the blonde hops up and grabs one of the tiny pink plates. Christian can’t help laughing to himself a little and shaking his head. Now he knows the girls were doing it on purpose. He sees Clayton looking at the plates too, Beth now offering him the tiny cup.

Jensen and Danneel show up and he wipes his hand on his grey pajama pants to shake Jensen’s hand. When Jared and his wife get there, it’s like the kid takes up the whole room, he’s so big. And loud, Christian thinks when Jared runs into Aldis, runs into him literally, tripping over a balloon weight. Tim is the last and he simply sneaks into the room inconspicuously. Christian thinks it’s really the first time that his work friends and his other friends have met, that even Steve has spent real time with Tim and the others. Though, Steve was probably talking to Beth and Gina some prior to this party. 

They eat, chicken salad cups and cucumber sandwiches with no crust that look absolutely tiny in the guys’ hands. But before they get any cake, they have to open the presents. 

That announcement from Gina has Christian blushing at the mere idea that everyone has brought him a gift. “Y’all didn’t have to,” he murmurs. 

“Oh, hush,” Gina says, bringing him the first gift as Steve laughs beside him, squeezing his forearm. 

It’s a huge pink box. “We’re having a boy,” Christian grumbles even though everyone knows that. 

He offers it to Steve to open, but of course, Steve pushes it back at him. Cautiously, he takes off the pink ribbon and opens the box. 

It’s all yellow inside, fluffy and yellow. Confused, Christian picks up one piece that turns out to be a hooded bath towel with a duck’s bill on the hood. He picks up another to see that it’s a onesie with a family of rubber ducks on it. 

Steve starts to laugh first, but then Christian is smiling and dropping the clothes back into the box. Gine doesn’t even know Steve that well. “Thanks, Gina,” he says. 

David is now sitting beside him on the couch and as Steve takes the pink box away, David is shoving a medium sized blue striped package at him. It was obviously wrapped by Jaime. 

“I made him pick it out himself,” Jaime says across her husband as Christian is pulling off the blue paper. 

When he gets it off, he’s looking at a box with a picture of a white rocket-looking thing that almost looks like that high school time capsule. It says Diaper Genie. 

“Trust me, you need it,” David interrupts. “It’s amazing how much of a stink a baby that only drinks milk can make.”

Christian doesn’t know whether to be horrified or amused. Going through the “joy” of pregnancy, he hadn’t really gotten around to worrying about poop. 

“Oh, oh, are we giving advice now?” Beth asks, excited as she stands up to shove her present on Christian’s already full lap. 

Steve jumps up to try to help, grabbing the diaper genie. But Beth is already telling them about the gift as Christian is trying to unwrap it. 

“Babies need a lot of stimulation,” Beth is saying. “And they like bright colors.”

Christian sees what she means when he sees a box with a picture of a jungle themed activity gym. It’s kinda cute. 

Beth is looking like she’s going to make him open the box and show him all the pieces, when Tim stands up and places a hand on her shoulder. 

Tim waits for Steve to helpfully remove Beth’s present from Christian’s lap and then places his gift basket there. It’s just a premade basket of lotions and towels and diapers and a couple of cute stuffed animals which Christian can see through the plastic as he unties it and pulls the plastic off. Then he realizes there’s a baby bathtub at the bottom.

“Thanks,” Christian says sincerely, “Less for us to buy later.”

Tim reaches out and squeezes Christian’s swollen ankle through his pants. “Well, I’m not great at shopping, but if we’re giving out wisdom, the best secret I’ve got is the washing machine.”

“Right, I love doing the laundry,” Christian says teasingly. 

Steve punches his arm lightly. “You never do the laundry,” Steve whines. “You used to just steal my shirts.”

“I make dinner, because you keep your fancy dishes for your paying customers,” Christian retorts. 

“Well, my first piece of wisdom is that you’re gonna be doing a ton of laundry with a baby,” Tim interrupts laughing. “But what I  
meant is that the motions of the washing machine can help put a baby to sleep. Just fasten the car seat to the top instead of driving around for hours.”

“Oh,” Steve says frowning in contemplation. “That seems like a good idea.”

“Alright,” Riley breaks the moment, pushing a small gift at Steve. “Here’s mine.”

Riley’s is also bright pink which is interesting because Christian didn’t think that Riley would go along with the girls’ pink theme. 

Steve tries to give it to him but he pushes it back. “You open at least one,” Christian says. 

Shrugging, Steve tears at the bright pink paper and lifts open the lid. But then he just stares inside for a moment. 

“What is it?” Christian asks, confused at Steve’s reaction. 

Steve slowly lifts out a bright pink girl’s dress, showing it to the room. “Aren’t we having a boy?” he asks Christian, facetiously. 

Christian shakes his head. “You were flirting with some guy in the store,” he accuses. 

It’s not a question and Riley turns red and shrugs in answer. “Yeah, ok, there was this guy…”

“And you picked up whatever the guy was looking at so you could talk to him,” Christian fills in. 

“And I forgot that it was a boy, ok,” Riley admits. “And it turned out he was married,” he finishes with a frown. 

“At least the tag’s still on,” Steve says, putting the dress back down. 

“Alright,” Jensen says, shoving his at Steve now too. “Mine’s not nearly so funny.”

Christian watches as Steve pulls the paper off and it’s…a box of diapers. He realizes that they do actually need a ton of diapers, but…

“Dude, you are so boring,” Riley accuses loudly. 

Danneel actually laughs the loudest, but then Clayne steps forward with his box. 

“I bought diapers too,” he says without waiting for them to unwrap the package. “I figured you two would have more fun picking out  
clothes than diapers when you’re on your feet again.”

It’s subtly nice and logical, just like Clayne himself. Clayne isn’t nearly as boring as Jensen is. 

“Well, thanks, man,” Christian says simply. 

“Mine’s not diapers,” Aldis cuts in, reaching his long arm out to give Christian his small gift. 

It’s a baby monitor. That’s useful. 

“Thanks…” Christian starts. 

“I know you, man,” Aldis starts. “Neither o’ y’all are gonna be sleeping, you’ll be fighting over who gets to sleep with that thing  
to your ear.”

Everyone laughs, but Christian doesn’t want to admit how true that is. “Can we have cake yet?”

“No!” Jared exclaims, jumping up with his box. His present was obviously wrapped by Jared himself rather than Genevieve. And he’s so  
excited about the contents apparently. 

Christian accepts this one on his now-empty lap, quickly unwrapping it. Inside is a faded brown leather bag, a diaper bag, he realizes. 

“Wow,” he says with real surprise. “This is really nice,” he continues, passing it to Steve to look at. 

“I know, right? Look at these cool pockets,” Jared goes on, leaning his long body over Christian’s reclined chair to show them. 

“Jared,” his wife admonishes and Jensen taps the big guy on the hip. Sheepishly, Jared returns to his seat. 

“He had help,” Genevieve says, but it doesn’t diminish the smile on Jared’s face that they like his gift. 

“Alright,” Steve says, out of the blue. “A few more gifts before cake, and you have to get up for these.”

Steve’s already gently lowering the leg rest on the chair and helping pull Christian out of it. That’s exactly why Christian sits on the couch, because it’s easier to roll out of. 

“Don’t you know, you not supposed to buy a gift,” Christian complains as he winding his way trying to follow Steve through the crowd of people and things. 

“Well, one is from us,” Sandy says, leaning over to kiss his cheek. 

“And one is from your Dad,” Steve finishes, knowing that Christian’s father doesn’t want to draw attention to himself. 

They walk into the baby room. Christian had chosen the colors with Steve, but hasn’t actually seen the finished product since he can’t help. 

It’s green and blue and yellow with hand-painted animals on the walls, courtesy of one of Steve’s art friends. It’s perfect. And there’s a stroller with a bow on it and a car seat and a bouncy seat and…a wooden rocker. 

Christian knows immediately that his father made it. It’s beautifully crafted of dark wood and has one of his momma’s crocheted blankets on it. 

“Dad,” he says, turning to the man. 

But he doesn’t have time to see the expression on his father’s face because then he’s wrapped up in a tight hug. 

“Congratulations, son,” his Dad whispers in a gravelly voice before he lets go. 

Then his Dad is walking over to the crib. “And the Carlsons had this from their own kids. Steve once lay in this very bed,” he teases, deflecting the emotional moment. 

The crib already has sheets on the tiny bed and a bright green blanket hanging over the side. 

“It’s perfect,” Christian whispers, tears springing to his own eyes and he reaches out blindly for Steve, pulling his husband close. 

Steve seems just as affected, tears leaking down his cheeks for once. It all seems very real now. They’re going to have a baby. 

Everyone files into the room to get a look and Steve leads Christian back to the recliner for his piece of cake which he devours like a little kid. 

Everyone continues talking and laughing and congratulating them, and by the time that everyone is thinking of leaving, Christian’s eyes are reluctantly closing.  
***

As the due date approaches, the tension in the house seems to ratchet up. They’re all scared. Delivery is the most dangerous time for his heart. His mom makes more casseroles than will fit in their freezer. Steve packs and checks their hospital bag almost obsessively. His Dad gets the car checked, twice. 

And yet it seems a shock when it finally starts. When he finally realizes that it’s not the Braxton-Hicks contractions again, it’s like all the information just leaks out his ears and all he can do is stare at Steve as his husband runs around the house, making sure he didn’t forget to put anything in the hospital bag. 

They go to the hospital immediately even though it’s only the first stage of labor. The doctors said not to take any chances. Though they let him walk around at first. Actually he does more walking then than he’s done for the past month. 

He grits his teeth when it starts to get bad, and kicks their parents out of the room when they make him lie down. Suddenly, he’s wishing he paid more attention to the breathing shit in that pregnancy class, but when he looks up at Steve his husband looks worse than he feels. 

Steve’s face is whiter than the sheets he’s lying on and he’s staring wide-eyed at Christian’s crotch after the fetal monitor is placed. The doctor is getting the epidural. 

Christian squeezes Steve’s hand hard at the next contraction. “It’s going to be ok,” he says, getting Steve’s attention though Steve’s still staring dazed. “It’s going to be ok, right?”

Suddenly Steve seems to come back to himself. He squeezes Christian’s hand in response and gives a tight smile. “Yeah, it’s going to be ok. You’re going to do great and everything’s going to be fine,” Steve soothes, his other hand grabbing a towel to wipe the swat off of Christian’s forehead.

It’s not til afterwards, when the tiny baby is lying on his chest, rising and falling with each of his breaths, and everyone he loves is crowded around them that he realizes that it was all worth it. Definitely.

[](http://s567.photobucket.com/albums/ss114/Melodious329/?action=view&current=Mpregtheend.jpg)


End file.
